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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Dissatisfaction. |
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 | The poetical works of Thomas Traherne |  |
Dissatisfaction.
In Cloaths confin'd, my weary Mind
Persu'd Felicity;
Throu ev'ry Street I ran to meet
My Bliss:
But nothing would the same disclose to me.
What is,
O where, the place of holy Joy!
Will nothing to my Soul som Light convey!
In ev'ry House I sought for Health,
Searcht ev'ry Cabinet to spy my Wealth,
I knockt at ev'ry Door,
Askt ev'ry Man I met for Bliss,
In ev'ry School, and Colledg, sought for this:
But still was destitute and poor.
Persu'd Felicity;
Throu ev'ry Street I ran to meet
My Bliss:
But nothing would the same disclose to me.
What is,
O where, the place of holy Joy!
Will nothing to my Soul som Light convey!
In ev'ry House I sought for Health,
Searcht ev'ry Cabinet to spy my Wealth,
I knockt at ev'ry Door,
Askt ev'ry Man I met for Bliss,
In ev'ry School, and Colledg, sought for this:
But still was destitute and poor.
My piercing Eys unto the Skies
I lifted up to see;
But no Delight my Appetit
Would sate;
Nor would that Region shew Felicity:
My Fate
Deny'd the same; Abov the Sky,
Yea all the Hev'n of Hev'ns, I lift mine Ey;
But nothing more than empty Space
Would there discover to my Soul its face.
Then back dissatisfy'd
To Earth I came; among the Trees,
In Taverns, Houses, Feasts, and Palaces,
I sought it, but was still deny'd.
I lifted up to see;
But no Delight my Appetit
Would sate;
Nor would that Region shew Felicity:
My Fate
Deny'd the same; Abov the Sky,
Yea all the Hev'n of Hev'ns, I lift mine Ey;
But nothing more than empty Space
Would there discover to my Soul its face.
129
To Earth I came; among the Trees,
In Taverns, Houses, Feasts, and Palaces,
I sought it, but was still deny'd.
Panting and faint, full of Complaint,
I it persu'd again,
In Diadems, and Eastern Gems,
In Bags
Of Gold and Silver: But got no more Gain
Than Rags,
Or empty Air, or Vanity;
Nor did the Temples much more signify:
Dirt in the Streets; in Shops I found
Nothing but Toil. Walls only me surround
Or worthless Stones or Earth;
Dens full of Thievs, and those of Blood
Complaints and Widows Tears: no other Good
Could there descry, no Hev'nly Mirth.
I it persu'd again,
In Diadems, and Eastern Gems,
In Bags
Of Gold and Silver: But got no more Gain
Than Rags,
Or empty Air, or Vanity;
Nor did the Temples much more signify:
Dirt in the Streets; in Shops I found
Nothing but Toil. Walls only me surround
Or worthless Stones or Earth;
Dens full of Thievs, and those of Blood
Complaints and Widows Tears: no other Good
Could there descry, no Hev'nly Mirth.
Mens Customs here but vile appear;
The Oaths of Roaring Boys,
Their Gold that shines, their sparkling Wines,
Their Lies,
Their gawdy Trifles, are mistaken Joys:
To prize
Such Toys I loath'd. My Thirst did burn;
But where, O whither should my Spirit turn!
Their Games, their Bowls, their cheating Dice,
Did not compleat, but spoil, my Paradise.
On things that gather Rust,
Or modish Cloaths, they fix their minds,
Or sottish Vanity their Fancy blinds,
Their Eys b'ing all put out with Dust.
The Oaths of Roaring Boys,
Their Gold that shines, their sparkling Wines,
Their Lies,
Their gawdy Trifles, are mistaken Joys:
To prize
Such Toys I loath'd. My Thirst did burn;
But where, O whither should my Spirit turn!
Their Games, their Bowls, their cheating Dice,
Did not compleat, but spoil, my Paradise.
On things that gather Rust,
Or modish Cloaths, they fix their minds,
Or sottish Vanity their Fancy blinds,
Their Eys b'ing all put out with Dust.
130
Sure none of these, sensless as Trees,
Can shew me tru Repose.
Philosophy! canst thou descry
My Bliss?
Will Books or Sages it to me disclose?
I miss
Of this in all: They tell me Pleasure,
Or earthly Honor, or a fading Treasure,
Will never with it furnish me.
But then, Where is? What is, Felicity?
Here Men begin to doat,
Stand unresolv'd, they cannot speak,
What 'tis; and all or most that Silence break
Discover Nothing but their Throat.
Can shew me tru Repose.
Philosophy! canst thou descry
My Bliss?
Will Books or Sages it to me disclose?
I miss
Of this in all: They tell me Pleasure,
Or earthly Honor, or a fading Treasure,
Will never with it furnish me.
But then, Where is? What is, Felicity?
Here Men begin to doat,
Stand unresolv'd, they cannot speak,
What 'tis; and all or most that Silence break
Discover Nothing but their Throat.
Weary of all that since the Fall
Mine Eys on Earth can find,
I for a Book from Heven look,
Since here
No Tidings will salute or eas my Mind:
Mine Ear,
My Ey, my Hand, my Soul, doth long
For som fair Book fill'd with Eternal Song.
O that! my Soul: for that I burn:
That is the Thing for which my Heart did yern.
Diviner Counsels there;
The Joys of God, the Angels Songs,
The secret Causes which employ their Tongues,
Will surely pleas when they appear.
Mine Eys on Earth can find,
I for a Book from Heven look,
Since here
No Tidings will salute or eas my Mind:
Mine Ear,
My Ey, my Hand, my Soul, doth long
For som fair Book fill'd with Eternal Song.
O that! my Soul: for that I burn:
That is the Thing for which my Heart did yern.
Diviner Counsels there;
The Joys of God, the Angels Songs,
The secret Causes which employ their Tongues,
Will surely pleas when they appear.
What Sacred Ways! What hev'nly Joys!
Which Mortals do not see?
What hidden Springs! What glorious Things
Abov!
What kind of Life among them led may be
In Lov!
What Causes of Delight they have!
What pleasing joyous Objects God them gave!
This mightily I long'd to know;
Oh, that som Angel these would to me shew!
How full, divine, and pure,
Their Bliss may be, including All
Things visible or invisible, which shall
To Everlasting firm endure.
Which Mortals do not see?
What hidden Springs! What glorious Things
Abov!
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In Lov!
What Causes of Delight they have!
What pleasing joyous Objects God them gave!
This mightily I long'd to know;
Oh, that som Angel these would to me shew!
How full, divine, and pure,
Their Bliss may be, including All
Things visible or invisible, which shall
To Everlasting firm endure.
O this! In this I hop'd for Bliss;
Of this I dreamt by Night:
For this by Day I gasping lay;
Mine Eys
For this did fail: For this, my great Delight
The Skies
Became, in hopes they would disclose
My Sacred Joys, and my desir'd Repose.
Oh! that som Angel would bring down
The same to me; That Book should be my Crown.
I breathe, I long, I seek:
Fain would I find, but still deny'd,
I sought in ev'ry Library and Creek
Until the Bible me supply'd.
Of this I dreamt by Night:
For this by Day I gasping lay;
Mine Eys
For this did fail: For this, my great Delight
The Skies
Became, in hopes they would disclose
My Sacred Joys, and my desir'd Repose.
Oh! that som Angel would bring down
The same to me; That Book should be my Crown.
I breathe, I long, I seek:
Fain would I find, but still deny'd,
I sought in ev'ry Library and Creek
Until the Bible me supply'd.
| The poetical works of Thomas Traherne | |