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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| III. |
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The World.
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 | Thalia Rediviva |  |
59
The World.
Can any tell me what it is? can you,
That wind your thoughts into a Clue
To guide out others, while your selves stay in,
And hug the Sin?
I, who so long have in it liv'd,
That if I might,
In truth I would not be repriev'd:
Have neither sight,
Nor sense that knows
These Ebbs and Flows.
But since of all, all may be said,
And likelines doth but upbraid.
And mock the Truth, which still is lost
In fine Conceits, like streams in a sharp frost:
I will not strive, nor the Rule break
Which doth give Loosers leave to speak.
Then false and foul World, and unknown
Ev'n to thy own:
Here I renounce thee, and resign
Whatever thou can'st say, is thine.
That wind your thoughts into a Clue
To guide out others, while your selves stay in,
And hug the Sin?
I, who so long have in it liv'd,
That if I might,
In truth I would not be repriev'd:
Have neither sight,
Nor sense that knows
These Ebbs and Flows.
But since of all, all may be said,
And likelines doth but upbraid.
And mock the Truth, which still is lost
In fine Conceits, like streams in a sharp frost:
I will not strive, nor the Rule break
Which doth give Loosers leave to speak.
Then false and foul World, and unknown
Ev'n to thy own:
Here I renounce thee, and resign
Whatever thou can'st say, is thine.
60
Thou art not Truth; for he that tries
Shall find thee all deceit and lyes.
Thou art not friendship; for in thee
'Tis but the bait of policy.
Which, like a Viper lodg'd in Flow'rs,
Its venom through that sweetness pours.
And when not so, then always 'tis
A fadeing paint; the short-liv'd bliss
Of air and Humour: out and in
Like Colours in a Dolphin's skin.
But must not live beyond one day,
Or Convenience; then away.
Thou art not Riches; for that Trash
Which one age hoords, the next doth wash
And so severely sweep away;
That few remember, where it lay.
So rapid streams the wealthy-land
About them, have at their command:
And shifting channels here restore,
There break down, what they bank'd before.
Thou art not Honour; for those gay
Feathers will wear, and drop away;
And princes to some upstart line
Give new ones, that are full as fine.
Thou art not pleasure; for thy Rose
Upon a thorn doth still repose;
Which if not cropt, will quickly shed;
But soon as cropt, grows dull and dead.
Shall find thee all deceit and lyes.
Thou art not friendship; for in thee
'Tis but the bait of policy.
Which, like a Viper lodg'd in Flow'rs,
Its venom through that sweetness pours.
And when not so, then always 'tis
A fadeing paint; the short-liv'd bliss
Of air and Humour: out and in
Like Colours in a Dolphin's skin.
But must not live beyond one day,
Or Convenience; then away.
Thou art not Riches; for that Trash
Which one age hoords, the next doth wash
And so severely sweep away;
That few remember, where it lay.
So rapid streams the wealthy-land
About them, have at their command:
And shifting channels here restore,
There break down, what they bank'd before.
Thou art not Honour; for those gay
Feathers will wear, and drop away;
And princes to some upstart line
Give new ones, that are full as fine.
Thou art not pleasure; for thy Rose
Upon a thorn doth still repose;
Which if not cropt, will quickly shed;
But soon as cropt, grows dull and dead.
Thou art the sand, which fills one glass,
And then doth to another pass;
And could I put thee to a stay,
Thou art but dust! then go thy way,
And leave me clean and bright, though poor;
Who stops thee, doth but dawb his floor,
And Swallow-like, when he hath done,
To unknown dwellings must be gone!
And then doth to another pass;
And could I put thee to a stay,
Thou art but dust! then go thy way,
61
Who stops thee, doth but dawb his floor,
And Swallow-like, when he hath done,
To unknown dwellings must be gone!
Welcom pure thoughts and peaceful hours
Inrich'd with Sunshine and with show'rs;
Welcom fair hopes and holy Cares,
The not to be repented shares
Of time and business: the sure rode
Unto my last and lov'd Abode!
O supreme Bliss!
The Circle, Center and Abyss
Of blessings, never let me miss
Nor leave that Path, which leads to thee:
Who art alone all things to me!
I hear, I see all the long day
The noise and pomp of the broad way;
I note their Course and proud approaches:
Their silks, perfumes and glittering Coaches.
But in the narrow way to thee
I observe only poverty.
And despis'd things: and all along
The ragged, mean and humble throng
Are still on foot, and as they go,
They sigh and say; Their Lord went so!
Inrich'd with Sunshine and with show'rs;
Welcom fair hopes and holy Cares,
The not to be repented shares
Of time and business: the sure rode
Unto my last and lov'd Abode!
O supreme Bliss!
The Circle, Center and Abyss
Of blessings, never let me miss
Nor leave that Path, which leads to thee:
Who art alone all things to me!
I hear, I see all the long day
The noise and pomp of the broad way;
I note their Course and proud approaches:
Their silks, perfumes and glittering Coaches.
But in the narrow way to thee
I observe only poverty.
And despis'd things: and all along
The ragged, mean and humble throng
Are still on foot, and as they go,
They sigh and say; Their Lord went so!
Give me my staff then, as it stood
When green and growing in the Wood.
(Those stones, which for the Altar serv'd,
Might not be smooth'd, nor finely carv'd:)
With this poor stick I'le pass the Foord
As Jacob did; and thy dear word.
As thou hast dress'd it: not as Witt
And deprav'd tastes have poyson'd it:
Shall in the passage be my meat,
And none else will thy Servant eat.
Thus, thus and in no other sort
Will I set forth, though laugh'd at for't;
And leaving the wise World their way,
Go through; though Judg'd to go astray.
When green and growing in the Wood.
(Those stones, which for the Altar serv'd,
Might not be smooth'd, nor finely carv'd:)
With this poor stick I'le pass the Foord
As Jacob did; and thy dear word.
62
And deprav'd tastes have poyson'd it:
Shall in the passage be my meat,
And none else will thy Servant eat.
Thus, thus and in no other sort
Will I set forth, though laugh'd at for't;
And leaving the wise World their way,
Go through; though Judg'd to go astray.
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