Sure it was so. Man in those early days
Was not all stone and earth;
He shined a little, and by those weak rays
Had some glimpse of his birth.
He saw Heaven o'er his head, and knew from whence
He came, condemned hither;
And, as first love draws strongest, so from hence
His mind sure progressed thither.
Things here were strange unto him: sweat and till,
All was a thorn or weed:
Nor did those last, but - like himself - died still
As soon as they did seed.
They seemed to quarrel with him, for that act
That felled him foiled them all:
He drew the curse upon the world, and cracked
The whole frame with his fall.
This made him long for home, as loth to stay
With murmurers and foes;
He sighed for Eden, and would often say,
'Ah! what bright days were those!'
Nor was Heaven cold unto him; for each day
The valley or the mountain
Afforded visits, and still paradise lay
In some green shade or fountain.
Angels lay lieger here; each bush and cell,
Each oak and highway knew them;
Walk but the fields, or sit down at some well,
And he was sure to view them.
Almighty Love! where art Thou now? Mad man
Sits down and freezeth on;
HE raves, and swears to stir nor fire, nor fan,
But bids the thread be spun.
I see, Thy curtains are close-drawn; Thy bow
Sin triumphs still, and man is sunk below
The center, and his shroud.
All's in deep sleep and night: thick darkness lies
And hatcheth o'er Thy people -
But hark! what trumpet's that? what angel cries,
'Arise! thrust in Thy sickle'?
Henry Vaughan's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Corruption by Henry Vaughan )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
- Last Words, Deborah DeNicola
- It's Funny, Isn't It?, Lili Domis
- You And I, Lili Domis
- Sonnet: Who Makes Money Wisely?, Dr John Celes
- Postcard For The Tin Soldier In Tintypes.., mary douglas
- I Submit, I Am Krakatoa
- till the last blood, binod bastola
- When Public Limited Company Goes Under, Terence G. Craddock
- We are three friends, gajanan mishra
- Single march, hasmukh amathalal