A Collection of Poems on Various Subjects By Sir Richard Blackmore |
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Happiness Discover'd.
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 | A Collection of Poems on Various Subjects |  |
413
Happiness Discover'd.
With fruitless Toil I've search'd the World to find
Pleasures adapted to a Deathless Mind:
Honour, Abundance and Delights have spent
Their Smiles in vain to give my Breast Content:
The Joys they bring, which please a sensual Taste,
Dissolve and disappear, when close embrac'd;
Never extinguish, but inflame Desire,
And add fresh Fuel to a restless Fire.
What is a Drop to those, who cry, we burst
With feverish Drought, and for a River thirst?
My Mind can grasp each India's wealthy Store,
And still continue empty as before.
For Earthly Pleasures their Intention miss,
Ingulph'd and swallow'd in a vast Abyss.
When a small Current, or a single Wave,
Shall fill the Deep, and crown the ample Cave;
When a few Sands of this Terrestrial Mass
Shall rise, and spread the whole Etherial Space;
Then may the Treasures, which on Earth I find,
The Compass fill of my capacious Mind.
Pleasures adapted to a Deathless Mind:
Honour, Abundance and Delights have spent
Their Smiles in vain to give my Breast Content:
The Joys they bring, which please a sensual Taste,
Dissolve and disappear, when close embrac'd;
Never extinguish, but inflame Desire,
And add fresh Fuel to a restless Fire.
What is a Drop to those, who cry, we burst
With feverish Drought, and for a River thirst?
My Mind can grasp each India's wealthy Store,
And still continue empty as before.
For Earthly Pleasures their Intention miss,
Ingulph'd and swallow'd in a vast Abyss.
414
Shall fill the Deep, and crown the ample Cave;
When a few Sands of this Terrestrial Mass
Shall rise, and spread the whole Etherial Space;
Then may the Treasures, which on Earth I find,
The Compass fill of my capacious Mind.
I have survey'd whate'er the World can shew,
All that it promises, but gives to few;
And still some lasting Happiness I want,
Which these vain Scenes of Life can never grant.
Hence, Power supreme, my Thoughts to Thee ascend,
The Cause of all Things, and their Guide and End;
Thy Goodness inexpressible, immense,
And far remov'd above the Reach of Sense,
Which is most pure, and will for ever last,
Can only please, and satisfy my Taste.
All that it promises, but gives to few;
And still some lasting Happiness I want,
Which these vain Scenes of Life can never grant.
Hence, Power supreme, my Thoughts to Thee ascend,
The Cause of all Things, and their Guide and End;
Thy Goodness inexpressible, immense,
And far remov'd above the Reach of Sense,
Which is most pure, and will for ever last,
Can only please, and satisfy my Taste.
I find my Soul is from her Center driv'n,
While here misplac'd she strives and aims at Heav'n
And is to some superior Good inclin'd,
Which she despairs, except in Thee, to find.
My Faculties Thy-self can entertain,
Thou did'st not make those Faculties in vain.
And, as I can, so I aspire to be
Happy for ever in enjoying Thee.
On Earth of Thy Blest Face a transient Glance,
Do's so transport, and so my Mind advance,
That I am conscious I could ever rest
In Thy full Sight, and be compleatly blest.
When I Thy Glorious Attributes admire,
And to Thy Presence full of Bliss aspire,
I such pure Pleasures, such Delights enjoy,
Delights that always grow, and never cloy,
That I no more with doubtful Thoughts contend,
But rest convinc'd, that for this happy End
These Faculties Thou did'st on me bestow,
My Will to love Thee, and my Mind to know.
How shall my useless Soul its Vigour spend,
If not in loving Thee, its Cause and End?
If Joys Divine my Breast must never fill,
Why have I Godlike Reason? Why a Will?
The low Delights of Sense might be enjoy'd,
Were I of Choice depriv'd, of Reason void:
These Objects in Perfection I might taste,
Were I a Salvage, or Domestick Beast.
While here misplac'd she strives and aims at Heav'n
415
Which she despairs, except in Thee, to find.
My Faculties Thy-self can entertain,
Thou did'st not make those Faculties in vain.
And, as I can, so I aspire to be
Happy for ever in enjoying Thee.
On Earth of Thy Blest Face a transient Glance,
Do's so transport, and so my Mind advance,
That I am conscious I could ever rest
In Thy full Sight, and be compleatly blest.
When I Thy Glorious Attributes admire,
And to Thy Presence full of Bliss aspire,
I such pure Pleasures, such Delights enjoy,
Delights that always grow, and never cloy,
That I no more with doubtful Thoughts contend,
But rest convinc'd, that for this happy End
These Faculties Thou did'st on me bestow,
My Will to love Thee, and my Mind to know.
How shall my useless Soul its Vigour spend,
If not in loving Thee, its Cause and End?
416
Why have I Godlike Reason? Why a Will?
The low Delights of Sense might be enjoy'd,
Were I of Choice depriv'd, of Reason void:
These Objects in Perfection I might taste,
Were I a Salvage, or Domestick Beast.
Felicity on Earth I seek in vain,
New Disappointments still renew my Pain.
The more I grasp, the more my Wants require,
Fresh Acquisitions but encrease Desire;
My Wishes still unsatisfy'd Return,
And make me all my lost Endeavours mourn.
New Disappointments still renew my Pain.
The more I grasp, the more my Wants require,
Fresh Acquisitions but encrease Desire;
My Wishes still unsatisfy'd Return,
And make me all my lost Endeavours mourn.
Heav'n does to all, but Man, Perfection grant,
That, with their Happiness upbraid my Want.
No Hopes or Fears unanxious Stones molest,
Which in the Earth's Embraces peaceful rest.
Trees to their destin'd Size and Stature grow,
And no Defect of Fruit or Branches know.
Flowers fully blown perfume the ambient Air,
And in their Smiles consummate Beauty wear.
Beasts that the Forrest range, or feed in Stalls,
Blest with Supplies, for which their Nature calls,
Pleas'd with themselves, are happy Animals.
Above the Field their Wishes never fly,
Nor do their Looks erect regard the Sky.
No Thoughts of Joys Divine and Bliss immense,
Tempt them to scorn the low Delights of Sense;
No Views of vast Eternity can show
To them how short their Pleasures are below;
Nor can they Dangers at a Distance see,
But from the Fears of Death and Torment free,
They still possess Tranquility and Rest,
And are with pure unmix'd Enjoyments blest;
While conscious Minds, that high as Heav'n can climb,
And look beyond the ebbing Streams of Time,
Become unhappy by their Eminence,
Their Reason serves but to disturb their Sense.
When the sad Mind her solemn Thought employs,
And finds she's form'd to taste immortal Joys,
And on her high Divine Descent reflects,
She scorns this World, and all its Toys rejects.
That, with their Happiness upbraid my Want.
No Hopes or Fears unanxious Stones molest,
Which in the Earth's Embraces peaceful rest.
Trees to their destin'd Size and Stature grow,
And no Defect of Fruit or Branches know.
417
And in their Smiles consummate Beauty wear.
Beasts that the Forrest range, or feed in Stalls,
Blest with Supplies, for which their Nature calls,
Pleas'd with themselves, are happy Animals.
Above the Field their Wishes never fly,
Nor do their Looks erect regard the Sky.
No Thoughts of Joys Divine and Bliss immense,
Tempt them to scorn the low Delights of Sense;
No Views of vast Eternity can show
To them how short their Pleasures are below;
Nor can they Dangers at a Distance see,
But from the Fears of Death and Torment free,
They still possess Tranquility and Rest,
And are with pure unmix'd Enjoyments blest;
While conscious Minds, that high as Heav'n can climb,
And look beyond the ebbing Streams of Time,
Become unhappy by their Eminence,
Their Reason serves but to disturb their Sense.
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And finds she's form'd to taste immortal Joys,
And on her high Divine Descent reflects,
She scorns this World, and all its Toys rejects.
Since then my Native Faculties aspire
To Heav'n, and endless Happiness require,
To this my Wish right Reason will agree,
Would I had never been, or may I always Be!
If some refin'd and intellectual Good,
Which I demand, and anxious have pursu'd,
By persevering Zeal I cannot gain,
I all my Soul's Capacities arraign
As useless, as impertinent and vain.
To Heav'n, and endless Happiness require,
To this my Wish right Reason will agree,
Would I had never been, or may I always Be!
If some refin'd and intellectual Good,
Which I demand, and anxious have pursu'd,
By persevering Zeal I cannot gain,
I all my Soul's Capacities arraign
As useless, as impertinent and vain.
I hence infer our Author must intend
Himself alone Man's Beatifick End.
On those pure Minds he'll this Reward bestow,
Who mock'd this World, and spurn'd the Pride below.
What This denies, the Coming Life will give,
Where in Eternal Bliss the Just shall live.
Himself alone Man's Beatifick End.
On those pure Minds he'll this Reward bestow,
Who mock'd this World, and spurn'd the Pride below.
What This denies, the Coming Life will give,
Where in Eternal Bliss the Just shall live.
| A Collection of Poems on Various Subjects | |