ODE XXII.
[Cleare, as vntroubled waters from their Spring]
1
Cleare, as vntroubled waters from their Spring,
And pure, as Innocence her Selfe can Sing;
Modest, as virgin Brides,
Whose gentle blushings hides
What they expresse; Sweet as the blooming Rose;
Faire, as the Earlie Morning, when she Showes
Her golden fface, and Deawie Lockes doth tye
In azure Fillets; Such be my Poesie,
2
Not bound to flatter Titles, or let loose
To vulgar passions, in the Times' abuse;
Not limited, not Free,
Further then modestie
Can warrant, in Each Syllable; not led
To Sooth opinion, neither soe much wed
To my owne Sence, but I all formes may See
In proper orbes; Such be my Poesie.
3
Such be my Poesie, that Number may
In Clear expressions, all my Thoughts display;
Such Rapture fill my Thought,
As I may vtter nought,
Beneath the dignitie of a free Muse;
And gvided by my Genius, Chuse
Obiects sublime; adoreing God, the high
Author of Truth; Such be my Poesie.