ROM. CAP. 8. VER. 19.

Etenim res Creatæ exerto capite observantes expectant
revelationem filiorum Dei.

by Henry Vaughan

AND do they so ? have they a sense
            Of ought but influence ?
Can they their heads lift, and expect,
And groan too ?  why th' elect
Can do no more ; my volumes said
            They were all dull, and dead ;
They judg'd them sensless, and their state
            Wholly inanimate.
            Go, go ; seal up thy looks,
                And burn thy books !

I would I were a stone, or tree,
            Or flower by pedigree,
Or some poor highway herb, or spring
            To flow, or bird to sing !
Then should I—tied to one sure state—
            All day expect my date ;
But I am sadly loose, and stray
            A giddy blast each way ;
            O let me not thus range !
                Thou canst not change.

Sometimes I sit with Thee, and tarry
            An hour or so, then vary.
Thy other creatures in this scene
            Thee only aim, and mean ;
Some rise to seek Thee, and with heads
            Erect, peep from their beds ;
Others, whose birth is in the tomb,
            And cannot quit the womb,
    Sigh there, and groan for Thee,
                Their liberty.

O let not me do less ! shall they
            Watch, while I sleep or play ?
Shall I Thy mercies still abuse
            With fancies, friends, or news ?
O brook it not !  Thy blood is mine,
            And my soul should be Thine ;
O brook it no t! why wilt Thou stop
            After whole showers one drop ?
            Sure, Thou wilt joy to see
                Thy sheep with Thee.

Vaughan, Henry. The Poems of Henry Vaughan, Silurist. vol I.
E. K. Chambers, Ed. London, Lawrence & Bullen Ltd., 1896. 87-88.

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