 | Pierides |  |
104. Griefe.
1
Away (thou gnawing worm) fond grief.Away from me, away,
Thy absence is my sweet relief,
Then flee without delay;
He that gives way to woe and sorrow,
May grieve to day, and mourn to morrow.
2
Go now into another Zone,Where mortal brains are light,
And press them down; I've need of none
Since I have felt thy weight.
He that shall change his frown for laughter,
May laugh to day, and sing hereafter.
143
3
I tri'd you both, and know you well;But do not like you so;
A light heart has no parallel,
But oh the pangs of woe!
Yet Woe, the heart can never shoot,
If Thought be not the Porter to't.
4
Then get the touch-stone which may turnAll dross and dregs to gold.
When grief begins in you to burn,
Let fancy make it cold:
Know either peace, or blustring passion,
Arises from th' imagination.
5
Suppose you then that all is good,And in that thought repose:
This will alay that fiery blood
Which in thy body flows.
And mark me now (for this is chiefe)
Nothing on earth requireth griefe.
6
If accident should chance to fall,It falls from heaven above.
Then let no poverty or thrall,
Your soaring spirits move.
144
Then grieve for sin, else grief expire.
| Pierides | |