Thalia Rediviva The Pass-times and Diversions of a Countrey-muse, In Choice Poems on several Occasions. With Some Learned Remains of the Eminent Eugenius Philalethes. Never made Publick till now [by Henry Vaughan] |
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To his Books.
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 | Thalia Rediviva |  |
To his Books.
Bright books! the perspectives to our weak sights:
The clear projections of discerning lights.
Burning and shining Thoughts; man's posthume day:
The track of fled souls, and their Milkie-way.
The dead alive and busie, the still voice
Of inlarg'd Spirits, kind heav'ns white Decoys.
Who lives with you, lives like those knowing flow'rs,
Which in commerce with light, spend all their hours:
Which shut to Clouds, and shadows nicely shun;
But with glad haste unveil to kiss the Sun.
Beneath you all is dark and a dead night;
Which whoso lives in, wants both health and sight.
The clear projections of discerning lights.
Burning and shining Thoughts; man's posthume day:
The track of fled souls, and their Milkie-way.
The dead alive and busie, the still voice
Of inlarg'd Spirits, kind heav'ns white Decoys.
Who lives with you, lives like those knowing flow'rs,
Which in commerce with light, spend all their hours:
Which shut to Clouds, and shadows nicely shun;
But with glad haste unveil to kiss the Sun.
Beneath you all is dark and a dead night;
Which whoso lives in, wants both health and sight.
47
By sucking you, the wise (like Bees) do grow
Healing and rich, though this they do most slow:
Because most choicely, for as great a store
Have we of Books, as Bees of herbs, or more.
And the great task to try, then know the good:
To discern weeds, and Judge of wholsome Food.
Is a rare, scant performance; for Man dyes
Oft e're 'tis done, while the bee feeds and flyes.
But you were all choice Flow'rs, all set and drest
By old, sage florists, who well knew the best.
And I amidst you all am turn'd a weed!
Not wanting knowledge, but for want of heed.
Then thank thy self wild fool, that would'st not be
Content to know—what was to much for thee!
Healing and rich, though this they do most slow:
Because most choicely, for as great a store
Have we of Books, as Bees of herbs, or more.
And the great task to try, then know the good:
To discern weeds, and Judge of wholsome Food.
Is a rare, scant performance; for Man dyes
Oft e're 'tis done, while the bee feeds and flyes.
But you were all choice Flow'rs, all set and drest
By old, sage florists, who well knew the best.
And I amidst you all am turn'd a weed!
Not wanting knowledge, but for want of heed.
Then thank thy self wild fool, that would'st not be
Content to know—what was to much for thee!
| Thalia Rediviva | |