ODE XLVI.
[I grovell Still, and cannot gaine]
1
I grovell Still, and cannot gaine
The orbe I flutter at in vaine.
My Thought is narrow, and my Langvage weake,
To give my Smaller Comprehensions plaine.
Something it is, I faine would speake,
But as my Fancies rise, they breake.
2
Wrapt in my native weed of Sin,
I cannot cast; but search within
The folds, and would a better raiment find;
Starved in the old Mantle, now worne thin;
This beggar's Coat deiects my mind,
In all Attempts I have designed.
3
Raggs doe not fitt a Court; nor can
Man, in this Motley, meerlie man,
Stand in the privie Chamber of his heart;
Where Knowledge keeps the doore; and Truth doth raigne,
Empresse of all; and everie part
Bound to noe Rule, nor forme of Art.
4
When I (encouragéd by Some
Waiters at large) would nearer come,
To wonder at the Glorie of her State;
I sneak'd, abash'd, into another Roome;
And like Court-gazers, I can prate
Of something seen, but know not what.
5
Thus, Silly man! I am content
To get a Sight, although I went,
Never, beyond the Threshold of her Court;
Enough, I thought I saw her, in her Tent;
And gvest the greatness of her Port,
By what some others did report.
6
But who can tell aright her State?
Forbid to humane Eyes. Of late
I heard one of her nearest Servants Say,
These bold Intruders sate without the Gate,
Ignorant gazers, and did Stay
For Almes, there given, everie Day.
7
Then, with the rest, why may not I,
Talke of gay Sights and braverie,
To make the world esteeme me wise and brave?
But I am Conscious, and well-pleas'd to see
The greatest Priviledge I have,
An equall Man, an Earth-borne Slave.
