 | The Shepherd's Garden |  |
142
SHEPHERD'S THRIFT.
I hold no ventures on the land,
I send no ships upon the sea;
The winds that bear their wealth in hand,
May blow which way they list for me:
My inward stores nor let me scant,
Nor pine for dearth when others want.
I send no ships upon the sea;
The winds that bear their wealth in hand,
May blow which way they list for me:
My inward stores nor let me scant,
Nor pine for dearth when others want.
Content doth wall ambition's will,
And tame the fury of those fires,
Whose flames do strive to overfill
The level of my low desires:
The fierce delirium of the great
Doth never tempt my humble state.
And tame the fury of those fires,
Whose flames do strive to overfill
The level of my low desires:
The fierce delirium of the great
Doth never tempt my humble state.
No wind of praise my mind doth move,
No breath of blame my course may swerve;
Sufficient for my own behove,
Myself unto myself I serve:
I have, I hold, I hope, I trust,
Nor take my measure from the dust.
No breath of blame my course may swerve;
Sufficient for my own behove,
Myself unto myself I serve:
I have, I hold, I hope, I trust,
Nor take my measure from the dust.
143
My faith is firm: no coward fears
Do shake the triumph of my soul,
Swept on the wings of circling spheres
That round the vast empyrean roll,
Content, when Time my pulse hath stilled,
A Destiny should be fulfilled.
Do shake the triumph of my soul,
Swept on the wings of circling spheres
That round the vast empyrean roll,
Content, when Time my pulse hath stilled,
A Destiny should be fulfilled.
Whilst laurelled victors conquering go,
And stretch their rule from land to land,
Nor heed what vast mutations flow
To wrest the sceptre from their hand,
Lord of myself, whate'er betide,
I reign and rule the world beside.
And stretch their rule from land to land,
Nor heed what vast mutations flow
To wrest the sceptre from their hand,
Lord of myself, whate'er betide,
I reign and rule the world beside.
No lark doth lift the brow of morn,
No eagle kiss the flaming sun,
But straight my ravished soul is borne
Along the paths where they do run:
Such high-topt glories I do find
In airy regions of the mind.
No eagle kiss the flaming sun,
But straight my ravished soul is borne
Along the paths where they do run:
Such high-topt glories I do find
In airy regions of the mind.
I lean upon the orient bands
That bind the circuit of the day;
I feel the touch of angel hands
That lead me from the earth away;
I dwell on shores more rich with gold
Than feigned Pactolus ever roll'd.
That bind the circuit of the day;
I feel the touch of angel hands
That lead me from the earth away;
144
Than feigned Pactolus ever roll'd.
Herein my heart is bound and fixed,
Unto this law I most incline;
The Power these elements hath mixed,
May bid recall them to the mine;
But I shall rise when they decay,
To empire of a mightier sway.
Unto this law I most incline;
The Power these elements hath mixed,
May bid recall them to the mine;
But I shall rise when they decay,
To empire of a mightier sway.
| The Shepherd's Garden | |