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Henry Vaughan (1622?-1695)

They are all Gone into the World of Light


              1They are all gone into the world of light!
              2     And I alone sit ling'ring here;
              3Their very memory is fair and bright,
              4     And my sad thoughts doth clear.

              5It glows and glitters in my cloudy breast,
              6     Like stars upon some gloomy grove,
              7Or those faint beams in which this hill is drest,
              8     After the sun's remove.

              9I see them walking in an air of glory,
            10     Whose light doth trample on my days:
            11My days, which are at best but dull and hoary,
            12     Mere glimmering and decays.

            13O holy Hope! and high Humility,
            14     High as the heavens above!
            15These are your walks, and you have show'd them me
            16     To kindle my cold love.

            17Dear, beauteous Death! the jewel of the just,
            18     Shining nowhere, but in the dark;
            19What mysteries do lie beyond thy dust
            20     Could man outlook that mark!

            21He that hath found some fledg'd bird's nest, may know
            22     At first sight, if the bird be flown;
            23But what fair well or grove he sings in now,
            24     That is to him unknown.

            25And yet as angels in some brighter dreams
            26     Call to the soul, when man doth sleep:
            27So some strange thoughts transcend our wonted themes
            28     And into glory peep.

            29If a star were confin'd into a tomb,
            30     Her captive flames must needs burn there;
            31But when the hand that lock'd her up, gives room,
            32     She'll shine through all the sphere.

            33O Father of eternal life, and all
            34     Created glories under thee!
            35Resume thy spirit from this world of thrall
            36     Into true liberty.

            37Either disperse these mists, which blot and fill
            38     My perspective still as they pass,
            39Or else remove me hence unto that hill,
            40     Where I shall need no glass.

Notes

4] clear: brighten.

5] It: their memory.

23] well: spring, pool.

35] Resume: take back.

38] perspective: telescope.


Online text copyright © 2009, Ian Lancashire (the Department of English) and the University of Toronto.
Published by the Web Development Group, Information Technology Services, University of Toronto Libraries.

Original text: Henry Vaughan, Silex Scintillans (1655).
First publication date: 1655
RPO poem editor: N. J. Endicott
RP edition: 3RP 1.372-73.
Recent editing: 2:2002/6/7

Rhyme: abab


Other poems by Henry Vaughan