The poetical works of Thomas Traherne faithfully reprinted from the author's original manuscript together with Poems of Felicity reprinted from the Burney manuscript and Poems from Various Sources: Edited with preface and notes by Gladys I. Wade |
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Poverty. |
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 | The poetical works of Thomas Traherne |  |
Poverty.
As in the House I sate
Alone and desolate,
No Creature but the Fire and I,
The Chimney and the Stool, I lift mine Ey
Up to the Wall,
And in the silent Hall
Saw nothing mine
But som few Cups and Dishes shine
The Table and the wooden Stools
Where Peeple us'd to dine:
A painted Cloth there was
Wherin som ancient Story wrought
A little entertain'd my Thought
Which Light discover'd throu the Glass.
Alone and desolate,
No Creature but the Fire and I,
The Chimney and the Stool, I lift mine Ey
Up to the Wall,
And in the silent Hall
Saw nothing mine
But som few Cups and Dishes shine
The Table and the wooden Stools
Where Peeple us'd to dine:
A painted Cloth there was
Wherin som ancient Story wrought
A little entertain'd my Thought
Which Light discover'd throu the Glass.
I wonder'd much to see
That all my Wealth should be
Confin'd in such a little Room,
Yet hope for more I scarcely durst presume.
It griev'd me sore
That such a scanty Store
Should be my All:
For I forgat my Eas and Health,
Nor did I think of Hands or Eys,
Nor Soul nor Body prize;
I neither thought the Sun,
Nor Moon, nor Stars, nor Peeple, mine,
Tho they did round about me shine;
And therfore was I quite undon.
That all my Wealth should be
Confin'd in such a little Room,
Yet hope for more I scarcely durst presume.
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That such a scanty Store
Should be my All:
For I forgat my Eas and Health,
Nor did I think of Hands or Eys,
Nor Soul nor Body prize;
I neither thought the Sun,
Nor Moon, nor Stars, nor Peeple, mine,
Tho they did round about me shine;
And therfore was I quite undon.
Som greater things I thought
Must needs for me be wrought,
Which till my craving Mind could see
I ever should lament my Poverty:
I fain would have
Whatever Bounty gave;
Nor could there be
Without, or Lov or Deity:
For, should not He be Infinit
Whose Hand created me?
Ten thousand absent things
Did vex my poor and wanting Mind,
Which, till I be no longer blind,
Let me not see the King of Kings.
Must needs for me be wrought,
Which till my craving Mind could see
I ever should lament my Poverty:
I fain would have
Whatever Bounty gave;
Nor could there be
Without, or Lov or Deity:
For, should not He be Infinit
Whose Hand created me?
Ten thousand absent things
Did vex my poor and wanting Mind,
Which, till I be no longer blind,
Let me not see the King of Kings.
His Lov must surely be
Rich, infinit, and free;
Nor can He be thought a God
Of Grace and Pow'r, that fills not his Abode,
His Holy Court,
In kind and liberal sort;
Joys and Pleasures,
Plenty of Jewels, Goods, and Treasures,
(To enrich the Poor, cheer the forlorn)
His Palace must adorn,
And given all to me:
For till His Works my Wealth became,
No Lov, or Peace did me enflame:
But now I have a DEITY.
Rich, infinit, and free;
Nor can He be thought a God
Of Grace and Pow'r, that fills not his Abode,
His Holy Court,
In kind and liberal sort;
Joys and Pleasures,
Plenty of Jewels, Goods, and Treasures,
(To enrich the Poor, cheer the forlorn)
His Palace must adorn,
128
For till His Works my Wealth became,
No Lov, or Peace did me enflame:
But now I have a DEITY.
| The poetical works of Thomas Traherne | |