Quo Vadis: a Cycle of Poems

[ ... ]

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting;
The Soul that rises with us, our life's Star,
        Hath had elsewhere its setting 
            And cometh from afar;
        Not in entire forgetfulness,
        And not in utter nakedness,
But trailing clouds of glory do we come
            From God, who is our home: 
[Heaven lies about us in our infancy!
Shades of the prison-house begin to close
            Upon the growing Boy,
But he beholds the light, and whence it flows,
            He sees it in his joy; 
The Youth, who daily farther from the east
    Must travel, still is Nature's priest,
        And by the vision splendid
        Is on his way attended;
At length the Man perceives it die away, 
And fade into the light of common day.]3

[ ... ]

        O joy! that in our embers
          Is something that doth live;
        That Nature yet remembers
          What was so fugitive!
[The thought of our past years in me doth breed
Perpetual benediction: not indeed
For that which is most worthy to be blest,
Delight and liberty, the simple creed
Of childhood, whether busy or at rest,
With new-fledged hope still fluttering in his breast: -- 
        Not for these I raise
        The song of thanks and praise;
    But for those obstinate questionings
    Of sense and outward things,
    Fallings from us, vanishings;
    Blank misgivings of a creature
Moving about in worlds not realized,
High instincts, before which our mortal nature
Did tremble like a guilty thing surprised:
    But for those first affections,]3
    Those shadowy recollections,
        Which, be they what they may,
Are yet the fountain-light of all our [day]4,
Are yet [a]5 master-light of all our seeing;
    Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make
Our noisy years seem moments in the being
Of the eternal Silence: truths that wake,
            To perish never;
Which neither listlessness, nor mad endeavour,
            [Nor man nor boy,]3
Nor all that is at enmity with joy,
Can utterly abolish or destroy!
    Hence, in a season of calm weather,
        Though inland far we be,
Our souls have sight of that immortal sea
            Which brought us hither;
        Can in a moment travel thither -- 
[And see the children sport upon the shore,]3
And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore.

[ ... ]

Rise, O my soul! with thy desires to heaven,
And [with divinest contemplation]1 use
Thy time, [when]2 time's eternity is given,
And let vain thoughts no more thy thoughts abuse;
But down in [darkness]3 let them lie;
So live thy better, let thy worse thoughts die.

[ ... ]

To Musicke bent is my retyred minde,
And faine would I some song of pleasure sing ;
But in vaine ioys no comfort now I finde,
From heau'nly thoughts all true delight doth spring.
Thy power, O God, thy mercies, to record,
Will sweeten eu'ry note and eu'ry word.

All earthly pompe or beauty to expresse,
Is but to carue in snow, on waues to write.
Celestiall things, though men conceiue them lesse,
Yet fullest are they in themselues of light :
Such beames they yeeld as know no meanes to dye,
Such heate they cast as lifts the Spirit high.

O make us apt to seek, and quick to find,
     Thou God, most kind:
Give us Love, Hope and Faith in thee to trust,
     Thou God, most just:
Remit all our offences, we intreat,
     Most Good, most Great:
Grant that our willing though unworthy quest
May, through thy Grace, admit us 'mongst the blest.

God be in my head, and in my understanding;
God be in mine eyes, and in my looking;
God be in my mouth, and in my speaking;
God be in mine heart, and in my thinking;
God be at [my end, and in]1 my departing.

Oh, whither shall my troubled Muse encline?
[When]1 not the glorious scaffolde of the skies,
Nor highest heaven's resplendent hierarchies,
Where heav'nly soldiours in pure armor shine;
Nor ayer which thy sweete Spirite doth refine,
Nor earth thy precious [bloud]2 unworthy prise,
Nor seas which, when thou list, ebbe and arise;
Nor any creature, profane or divine,
Can blaze the flourish of thy tearmelesse praise;
Surreaching farre, by manifold large space,
All divine fabricke of thy sacred hands;
[Even thither shall my Muse her musicke raise,
Where my soule's everlasting pallace stands, --
Sweete refuge of salvation ! court of grace!]3

Weigh me the fire; or, canst thou find
A way to measure out the wind;
Distinguish all [those]1 floods that are
Mixt in [that]1 watrie theater;
And tast thou them as saltlesse there,
As in their channell first they were;
Tell me the people that do keep
Within the kingdomes of the deep;
Or fetch me back that cloude againe,
Beshiver'd into seeds of raine;
Tell me the motes, dust, sands, and speares
Of corn, when summer shakes his eares;
Shew me [that]1 world of starres, and whence
They noiselesse spill their influence;
This if thou canst, then shew me Him
That rides the glorious Cherubim.

See! through the heavenly arch
With silent stately march
   The starry ranks for ever sweep;
In graduate scale of might
They all are sons of light,
   And all their times and orders keep.

O glorious, countless host,
Which shall I praise the most,
   Your lustrous groups, or course exact ?
Ye on your way sublime
Defy confusing time
   Your light to dim, your path distract.

[Earth's early fathers saw
The gospel and the law
   In the firm beauty of the skies :]1
O thou unswerving Will,
The unveiled heavens still
   Show Thee [as]1 glorious, good, and wise.

[ ... ]

The Lord descended from above,
And bow'd the Heavens high,
And underneath his Feet he cast
The Darkness of the Sky.

On [Cherubs and on Cherubims]1
Full royally he rode,
And on the Wings of mighty Winds
Came flying all abroad.

Night hath no wings to him that cannot sleep,
And time seems then not for to fly, but creep;
Slowly her chariot drives, as if that she
Had broke her wheel[, or crack'd her axletree]1.
[Just so it is with me, who, list'ning, pray]2
The winds to blow the tedious night away,
[That I might see the cheerful, peeping day.]1
Sick is my heart! O Saviour! do Thou please
To make my bed soft in my sicknesses:
Lighten my candle, so that I beneath
Sleep not for ever in the vaults of death;
Let me Thy voice betimes i' th' morning hear:
Call, and I'll come; say Thou the when, and where.
[Draw me but first, and after Thee I'll run
And make no one stop till my race be done.]1

In the hour of my distress,
When temptations me oppress,
And when I my sins confess,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

[ ... ]

When the house doth sigh and weep,
And the world is drown'd in sleep,
Yet mine eyes the watch do keep,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

[ ... ]

When, God knows, I'm tost about
Either with despair, or doubt;
Yet, before the glass be out,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

[ ... ]

[As the lightning cometh out of the East, and shineth even unto the West,
so shall also the coming of the Son of Man be].1

Unto the East we turn, with watchful eyes,
     Where opens the white haze of silvery lawn,
     And the still trees stand in the streak of dawn,
Until the Sun of Righteousness shall rise,
And far behind shall open all the skies,
     And golden clouds of Angels be withdrawn
     Around His presence. Then there shall be gone,
Fleeing before His face in dread surprise,
     The Heaven and Earth and the affrighted Sea,
[And the tribunal shall be set on high,
     And we the fiery trial must abide]1.
Like nightly travellers to the kindling sky,
     Awake or sleeping to yon eastern side
     We turn, and know not when the time shall be.

[ ... ]

Oh! timely happy, timely wise,
Hearts that with rising morn arise!
Eyes that the beam celestial view,
Which evermore makes all things new! 

New every morning is the love
Our wakening and uprising prove;
Through sleep and darkness safely brought,
Restored to life, and power, and thought. 

New mercies, each returning day,
Hover around us while we pray;
New perils past, new sins forgiven,
New thoughts of God, new hopes of heaven. 

[ ... ]

There is a Book, who runs may read,
Which heavenly truth imparts,
And all the [lore]1 its scholars need,
Pure eyes and Christian hearts.

The works of God above, below,
Within us and around,
Are pages in that book, to shew
How God himself is found.

[ ... ]

Thou, who hast given me eyes to see,
And love this sight so fair,
Give me a heart to find out Thee,
And read Thee every where.

The glorious sky, embracing all
Is like the Maker's love,
Wherewith encompass'd, great and small
In peace and order move.

[ ... ]

The Saviour lends the light and heat
That crown his holy hill;
The saints, like stars, around his seat,
Perform their courses still.

[ ... ]

One name, above all glorious names,
With its ten thousand tongues
The everlasting sea proclaims,
Echoing angelic songs.

[ ... ]

Vexilla Regis prodeunt;
fulget Crucis mysterium,
[quo carne carnis conditor
suspensus est patibulo.]1

[ ... ]

The royal banners forward go;
The cross shines forth in mystic glow
Where He in flesh, our flesh who made,
our sentence bore, our ransom paid;

[ ... ]

[ ... ]

If on our daily course our mind
Be set to hallow all we find,
New treasures still, of countless price,
God will provide for sacrifice. 

Old friends, old scenes, will lovelier be,
As more of heaven in each we see:
Some softening gleam of love and prayer
Shall dawn on every cross and care. 

[ ... ]

The trivial round, the common task, 
Would furnish all we ought to ask; 
Room to deny ourselves; a road 
To bring us, daily, nearer God. 

[ ... ]

Only, O Lord, in thy dear love 
Fit us for perfect Rest above; 
And help us, this and every day, 
To live more nearly as we pray. 

[ ... ]

Dear stream! dear bank, where often I
Have sate and pleas'd my pensive eye,
Why, since each drop of thy quick store
Runs thither [whence]1 it flow'd before,
Should poor souls fear a shade or night,
Who came, sure, from a sea of light?
[Or since those drops are all sent back
So sure to thee, that none doth lack,
Why should frail flesh doubt any more
That what God takes, he'll not restore?]2

With what deep murmurs through time's silent stealth
Doth thy transparent, cool, and wat'ry wealth
    Here flowing fall,
    And chide, and call,
As if his liquid, loose retinue stay'd
Ling'ring, and were of this steep place afraid;
    The common pass
    [Where, clear as glass,]3
    All must descend
    Not to an end,
But quicken'd by this deep and rocky grave,
Rise to a longer course more bright and brave.

[ ... ]

The God of love my Shepherd is,
And He that doth me feed;
While He is mine and I am His,
What can I [want]1 or need?

[ ... ]

Yea, in death's shady black abode
Well may I walk, not fear;
For Thou art with me, and Thy rod
To guard, Thy staff to bear.

Surely Thy sweet and wondrous love
Shall measure all my days;
And as it never shall remove
So neither shall my praise.

Come to me God ; but do not come
To me, as to the gen'rall Doome, 
In power; or come Thou in that state, 
When Thou Thy Lawes didst promulgate, 
When as the [Mountains]1 quak'd for dread, 
And sullen clouds bound up his head. 
[No, lay thy stately terrours by, 
To talke with me familiarly;]2
For if Thy thunder-claps I heare, 
I shall lesse swoone, then die for feare. 
Speake thou of love and I'le reply 
[By way of Epithalamie,]2
Or sing of mercy, and I'le suit 
To it my Violl and my Lute: 
Thus let Thy lips but love distill, 
Then come my God, and hap what will.

In this world, the isle of dreams,
While we sit by sorrow's streams,
Tears and terrors are our themes
   Reciting:

But when once from hence we fly,
More and more approaching nigh
 Unto young eternity,
   Uniting:

 In that whiter island, where
 Things are evermore sincere;
 Candor here and luster there
 Delighting:

[ ... ]

    There, in calm and cooling sleep
We our eyes shall never steep,
 But eternal watch shall keep,
 Attending

[ ... ]

My soul, there is a country
  [Afar]1 beyond the stars,
Where stands a wingèd sentry
  All skilful in the wars:

There, above noise and danger
  Sweet Peace sits [crown'd]2 with smiles
And One, born in a manger
  Commands the beauteous files.

He is thy gracious Friend
  And -- O my soul, awake! --
Did in pure love descend
  To die here for thy sake.

If thou canst [get]3 but thither,
  There grows the [flower]4 of Peace,
The Rose that cannot wither,
  Thy fortress and thy ease.

Leave then thy foolish ranges,
  For none can thee secure
But One who never changes,
  Thy God, thy life, thy cure.

  They are at rest.
We may not stir the [heaven]1 of their repose
By rude invoking voice, or prayer addrest
  In waywardness to those
Who in the mountain grots of Eden lie,
And hear the fourfold river as it murmurs by.

  They hear it sweep
In distance down the dark and savage vale;
But they at rocky bed, or current deep,
  Shall never more grow pale;
They hear, and meekly muse, as fain to know
How long untired, unspent, that giant stream shall flow.

  And soothing sounds
[Blend]2 with the neighb'ring waters as they glide;
Posted along the haunted garden's bounds,
  Angelic forms abide,
Echoing, as words of watch, o'er lawn and grove
The verses of that hymn which Seraphs chant above.

To find the Western path,
Right thro' the Gates of Wrath
I urge my way;
Sweet Mercy leads me on
With soft repentant moan:
I see the break of day.

The war of swords and spears,
Melted by dewy tears,
Exhales on high;
The Sun is freed from fears,
And with soft grateful tears
Ascends the sky.

The One remains, the many change and pass;
Heaven's light forever shines, Earth's shadows fly;
Life, like a dome of many-coloured glass,
Stains the white radiance of Eternity,
Until Death tramples it to fragments. -- Die,
If thou wouldst be with [that]1 which thou dost seek! 
Follow where all is fled! -- [Rome's azure sky,
Flowers, ruins, statues, music, words, are weak
The glory they transfuse with fitting truth to speak.]2

Why linger, why turn back, why shrink, my Heart?
[Thy hopes are gone before: from all things here
They have departed; thou shouldst now depart!
A light is passed from the revolving year,
And man, and woman; and what still is dear
Attracts to crush, repels to make thee wither.
The soft sky smiles,--the low wind whispers near:
'Tis Adonais calls! oh, hasten thither,
No more let Life divide what Death can join together.]2

That Light whose smile kindles the Universe,
[That Beauty in which all things work and move,
That Benediction which the eclipsing Curse
Of birth can quench not, that sustaining Love
Which through the web of being blindly wove
By man and beast and earth and air and sea,
Burns bright or dim, as each are mirrors of
The fire for which all thirst, now beams on me,]3
Consuming the last clouds of cold mortality.

The breath whose might I have invoked in song
Descends on me; my spirit's bark is driven
Far from the shore, far from the trembling throng
Whose sails were never to the tempest given;
The massy earth and spherèd skies are riven!
I am borne darkly, fearfully, afar;
Whilst burning through the inmost veil of Heaven,
[The soul of Adonais, like]2 a star,
Beacons from the abode where the Eternal are.

   Love, from its awful throne of patient power
In the wise heart, from the last giddy hour
  Of dread endurance, from the slippery, steep,
And narrow verge of crag-like agony, springs
And folds over the world its healing wings.
 
Gentleness, Virtue, Wisdom, and Endurance,
These are the seals of that most firm assurance
  Which bars the pit over Destruction's strength;
[And if, with infirm hand, Eternity,
Mother of many acts and hours, should free
  The serpent that would clasp her with his length;]1
These are the spells by which to [reassume]2 
An empire o'er the disentangled doom.

To suffer woes which Hope thinks infinite;
To forgive wrongs darker than death or night;
  To defy Power, which seems omnipotent;
[To love, and bear; to hope till Hope creates
From its own wreck the thing it contemplates;]3
  Neither to change, nor falter, nor repent;
This[, like thy glory, Titan,]1 is to be
Good, great and joyous, beautiful and free;
This is alone Life, Joy, Empire, and Victory.

    Holy is the True Light, and passing wonderful,
lending radiance to them that endured in the heat
of [the]1 conflict, from Christ they inherit a home of
unfading splendour, wherein they rejoice with
[gladness evermore]2. [Alleluia!]1