Poems and Songs by Thomas Flatman. The Fourth Edition with many Additions and Amendments |
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For THOUGHTS.
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
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 | Poems and Songs |  |
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For THOUGHTS.
I.
Thoughts! What are they?They are my constant Friends,
Who, when harsh Fate its dull brow bends,
Uncloud me with a smiling Ray,
And in the depth of midnight force a day.
II.
When I retire, and fleeThe busie throngs of Company!
To hug my self in privacy;
O the discourse! the pleasant talk,
'Twixt us (my thoughts) along a lonely walk!
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III.
You, like the stupifying WineThe dying Malefactors sip
With shivering lip,
T'abate the rigour of their Doom,
By a less troublous cut to their long home;
Make me slight Crosses, though they pil'd up lie,
All by th' enchantments of an extasie.
IV.
Do I desire to seeThe Throne and Majesty
Of that proud one,
Brother and Uncle to the Stars and Sun?
Those can conduct me where such Toys reside,
And waft me cross the Main, sans Wind and Tide.
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V.
Would I descrieThose radiant Mansions 'bove the Skie,
Invisible by Mortal eye?
My Thoughts, my Thoughts can lay
A shining Track thereto,
And nimbly fleeting go:
Through all the eleven Orbs can shove away,
These two, like Jacob's Ladder, are
A most Angelick thorough-fare.
IV.
The Wealth that shinesIn th' Oriental Mines;
Those sparkling Gems which Nature keeps
Within her Cabinets, the Deeps,
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The Rarities the rich World yields;
Rare structures, whose each gilded spire
Glimmers like Lightning; which, while men admire,
They deem the neighbouring Skie on fire,
These can I gaze upon, and glut mine eyes
With Myriads of varieties.
As on the front of Pisgah, I
Can th' Holy Land through these my Opticks spie.
VII.
Contemn we thenThe peevish rage of men,
Whose violence ne'r can divorce
Our mutual amity;
Or lay so damn'd a Curse
As Non-addresses, 'twixt my thoughts and me:
For though I sigh in Irons, They
Use their old freedom, readily obey;
And when my bosome-friends desert me, stay.
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VIII.
Come then, my darlings, I'le embraceMy Priviledge; make known
The high prerogative I own,
By making all allurements give you place;
Whose sweet society to me,
A Sanctuary and a Shield shall be
'Gainst the full Quivers of my Destiny.
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