Henry Vaughan Poems

Father of lights! what sunny seed,
What glance of day hast Thou confined
Into this bird? To all the breed
This busy ray Thou hast assigned;
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If I were dead, and, in my place,
Some fresher youth designed
To warm thee, with new fires; and grace
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Happy that first white age when we
Lived by the earth's mere charity!
No soft luxurious diet then
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Joy of my life while left me here!
And still my love!
How in thy absence thou dost steer
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1 O joys! infinite sweetness! with what flow'rs
2 And shoots of glory my soul breaks and buds!
3 All the long hours
4 Of night, and rest,
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How rich, O Lord! how fresh thy visits are!
'Twas but just now my bleak leaves hopeless hung
Sullied with dust and mud;
Each snarling blast shot through me, and did share
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And do they so? Have they a sense
Of aught but influence?
Can they their heads lift, and expect,
And groan too? Why the elect
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Sure thou didst flourish once! and many springs,
Many bright mornings, much dew, many showers,
Pass'd o'er thy head; many light hearts and wings,
Which now are dead, lodg'd in thy living bowers.
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Soul.

'TIS a sad Land, that in one day
Hath dull'd thee thus ; when death shall freeze
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1 Unfold! unfold! Take in His light,
2 Who makes thy cares more short than night.
3 The joys which with His day-star rise,
4 He deals to all but drowsy eyes;
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