The Minor Poems of Joseph Beaumont ... Edited from the autograph manuscript with introduction and notes by Eloise Robinson |
 |
The Sluggard
|
|
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
 | The Minor Poems of Joseph Beaumont |  |
33
The Sluggard
The World awoke, & op'd his flaming Eye,
Which darted through ye skie
The broad daylight;
And at ye sight
The virgin Morne, though Shee
Were up & drest before,
Yet blushed all o're
In Heavnly Modestie,
As if s'had slept too long, & were
Asham'd ye Sun should look on her
Being but newly risen, and arrayd
In a gray Mantel like some homely Maid.
Which darted through ye skie
The broad daylight;
And at ye sight
The virgin Morne, though Shee
Were up & drest before,
Yet blushed all o're
In Heavnly Modestie,
As if s'had slept too long, & were
Asham'd ye Sun should look on her
Being but newly risen, and arrayd
In a gray Mantel like some homely Maid.
Yet all this while in spight of this Sweet Light,
Mine Eyes huggd Sleep & Night.
I snorting lay,
As if ye Day
Some foure houres off had been:
I who had much to doe,
Further to goe,
And more to loose or winne,
Then had ye Morning, yet let Her
Be up & gone, e'r I did stirr.
Perhaps She blush'd to see how drowsy I
Slep'd out all Shame, whilst Shee had flown so high.
Mine Eyes huggd Sleep & Night.
I snorting lay,
As if ye Day
Some foure houres off had been:
I who had much to doe,
Further to goe,
And more to loose or winne,
Then had ye Morning, yet let Her
Be up & gone, e'r I did stirr.
Perhaps She blush'd to see how drowsy I
Slep'd out all Shame, whilst Shee had flown so high.
At length ye Sunne growne high enough to look
In at ye window took
His view & spy'd
Out my Bedside.
The Curtaines were of my
Lazie Conspiracie.
But Carefull He
Sent a quick Ray to pry
Into ye Tent of Sloth, & mark
Why in ye Morne it should be dark.
This found me out, & glaring on mine eyes
Stood wondring at Me, why I did not rise.
In at ye window took
His view & spy'd
Out my Bedside.
34
Lazie Conspiracie.
But Carefull He
Sent a quick Ray to pry
Into ye Tent of Sloth, & mark
Why in ye Morne it should be dark.
This found me out, & glaring on mine eyes
Stood wondring at Me, why I did not rise.
The sleepy Mists thus chased from my Brow,
I woke, I knew not how:
I cannot say
Whither like ye Day
I blushed in my Rise
Or no; though surely I
Had more cause why;
For as I rubbd mine Eyes
A sudden Consort filld mine eare;
Plaine were ye Notes, but sweet & clear,
The honest Birds up long, long before Mee
Were at their Mattens on a Neighbour Tree.
I woke, I knew not how:
I cannot say
Whither like ye Day
I blushed in my Rise
Or no; though surely I
Had more cause why;
For as I rubbd mine Eyes
A sudden Consort filld mine eare;
Plaine were ye Notes, but sweet & clear,
The honest Birds up long, long before Mee
Were at their Mattens on a Neighbour Tree.
And does ye Day rise more for Birds then Mee
That they should earlyer bee
At work then I,
Who have to flie
Higher then they, & bring
A Morning-Sacrifice
Of Greater price
Unto my God & King!
Up tardy Heart for Shame; but downe
Lower againe upon thine owne
Imploring Knees; that is ye surest way
To Rise indeed, fairer then did this Day.
That they should earlyer bee
At work then I,
Who have to flie
Higher then they, & bring
A Morning-Sacrifice
Of Greater price
Unto my God & King!
Up tardy Heart for Shame; but downe
Lower againe upon thine owne
Imploring Knees; that is ye surest way
To Rise indeed, fairer then did this Day.
| The Minor Poems of Joseph Beaumont | |