Phillis Wheatley (1753 – 5 December 1784 / Gambia)
O Thou bright jewel in my aim I strive
To comprehend thee. Thine own words declare
Wisdom is higher than a fool can reach.
I cease to wonder, and no more attempt
Thine height t' explore, or fathom thy profound.
But, O my soul, sink not into despair,
Virtue is near thee, and with gentle hand
Would now embrace thee, hovers o'er thine head.
Fain would the heav'n-born soul with her converse,
Then seek, then court her for her promis'd bliss.
Auspicious queen, thine heav'nly pinions spread,
And lead celestial Chastity along;
Lo! now her sacred retinue descends,
Array'd in glory from the orbs above.
Attend me, Virtue, thro' my youthful years!
O leave me not to the false joys of time!
But guide my steps to endless life and bliss.
Greatness, or Goodness, say what I shall call thee,
To give me an higher appellation still,
Teach me a better strain, a nobler lay,
O thou, enthron'd with Cherubs in the realms of day.
Poet Other Poems
- A Farewel To America to Mrs. S. W.
- A Funeral Poem On The Death Of C. E. An ...
- A Rebus
- An Answer To The Rebus, By The Author Of...
- An Hymn to Humanity
- An Hymn To The Evening
- An Hymn To The Morning
- Goliath Of Gath
- His Excellency General Washington
- Isaiah LXIII
- Niobe In Distress For Her Children Slain...
- Ode To Neptune
- On Being Brought from Africa to America
- On Imagination
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.