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.
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 turn
All 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.
Nothing but sin can grief require,
Then grieve for sin, else grief expire.
