Chapter VI

Their rich affections me like precious seas
Of nectar and ambrosia please.
Their eyes are stars, or more divine
And brighter shine:
Their lips are soft and swelling grapes, their tongues
A quire of blessed and harmonious songs.
Their bosoms fraught with love
Are Heavens all Heavens above;
And being Images of God they are
The highest joys His goodness did prepare.

[THE SOUL'S GLORY]

In making bodies Love could not express
Itself, or art; unless it made them less.
O what a monster had in man been seen,
Had every thumb or toe a mountain been!
What worlds must he devour when he did eat?
What oceans drink? Yet could not all his meat,
Or stature, make him like an Angel shine;
Or make his soul in glory more divine.
A soul it is that makes us truly great,
Whose little bodies make us more complete.
An Understanding that is Infinite,
An endless, wide, and everlasting sight,
That can enjoy all things and nought exclude,
Is the most sacred greatness may be viewed.
'Twas inconvenient that his bulk should be
An endless hill; he nothing then could see:
No figure have, no motion, beauty, place,
No colour, feature, member, light, or grace:
A body like a mountain is but cumber,
An endless body is but idle lumber,
It spoils converse, and Time itself devours,
While meat in vain in feeding idle powers,
Excessive bulk being most injurious found,
To those conveniences which men have crown'd.
His wisdom did His power here repress,
God made man greater while He made him less.

[FINITE YET INFINITE]

His power bounded, greater is in might,
Than if let loose 'twere wholly infinite.
He could have made an endless Sea by this,
But then it had not been a Sea of Bliss.
Did water from the centre to the skies
Ascend, 'twould drown whatever else we prize.
The Ocean bounded in a finite shore,
Is better far because it is no more,
No use nor glory would in that be seen,
His power made it endless in esteem.
Had not the sun been bounded in its sphere,
Did all the world in one fair flame appear,
And were that flame a real infinite,
'Twould yield no profit, splendour, nor delight.
Its corps confined and beams extended be
Effects of wisdom in the Deity.
One star made infinite would all exclude,
An earth made infinite could ne'er be viewed.
But one being fashioned for the other's sake,
He bounding all, did all most useful make:
And which is best, in profit and delight,
Tho' not in bulk, they all are infinite.

ON NEWS

I

News from a foreign country came,
As if my treasure and my wealth lay there:
So much it did my heart enflame
'Twas wont to call my soul into mine ear,
Which thither went to meet
The approaching sweet,
And on the threshold stood,
To entertain the unknown Good.
It hovered there
As if 'twould leave mine ear,
And was so eager to embrace
The joyful tidings as they came,
'Twould almost leave its dwelling-place,
To entertain that same.

II

As if the tidings were the things,
My very joys themselves, my foreign treasure,
Or else did bear them on their wings;
With so much joy they came, with so much pleasure.
My Soul stood at that gate
To recreate
Itself with bliss: And to
Be pleased with speed. A fuller view
It fain would take,
Yet journeys back would make
Unto my heart: as if 'twould fain
Go out to meet, yet stay within
To fit a place, to entertain,
And bring the tidings in.

III

What sacred instinct did inspire
My Soul in childhood with a hope so strong?
What secret force mov'd my desire
To expect my joys beyond the seas, so young?
Felicity I knew
Was out of view:
And being here alone,
I saw that happiness was gone
From me! For this,
I thirsted absent bliss,
And thought that sure beyond the seas,
Or else in something near at hand
I knew not yet, (since nought did please
I knew) my Bliss did stand.

IV

But little did the infant dream
That all the treasures of the world were by:
And that himself was so the cream
And crown of all which round about did lie.
Yet thus it was: The gem,
The diadem,
The ring enclosing all
That stood upon this earthly ball;
The Heavenly Eye,
Much wider than the sky,
Wherein they all included were,
The glorious Soul that was the King
Made to possess them, did appear
A small and little thing!

[THE TRIUMPH]

I

A life of Sabbaths here beneath!
Continual Jubilees and Joys!
The days of Heaven, while we breathe
On Earth! where sin all bliss destroys:
This is a triumph of delights
That doth exceed all appetites!
No joy can be compared to this,
It is a life of perfect bliss.

II

Or perfect bliss! How can it be?
To conquer Satan and to reign
In such a vale of misery,
Where vipers, stings and tears remain,
Is to be crowned with victory.
To be content, divine, and free
Even here beneath is great delight,
And next the beatific sight.

III

But inward lusts do oft assail,
Temptations work us much annoy;
We'll therefore weep, and to prevail
Shall be a more celestial joy.
To have no other enemy
But one; and to that one to die:
To fight with that and conquer it,
Is better than in peace to sit.

IV

'Tis better for a little time:
For he that all his lusts doth quell,
Shall find this life to be his prime,
And vanquish sin and conquer hell.
The next shall be his double joy,
And that which here seemed to destroy
Shall in the other life appear
A root of Bliss; a pearl each tear.

[THE ONLY ILL]

I

Sin!
O only fatal woe,
That makes me sad and mourning go!
That all my joys dost spoil,
His Kingdom and my Soul defile!
I never can agree
With Thee.

II

Thou!
Only Thou! O Thou alone,
And my obdurate Heart of Stone,
The poison and the foes
Or my enjoyments and repose,
The only bitter ill:
Dost kill!

III

Oh!
I cannot meet with thee,
Nor once approach thy memory,
But all my joys are dead,
And all my sacred treasures fled,
As if I now did dwell
In Hell.

IV

Lord!
O hear how short I breathe!
See how I tremble here beneath
A sin! its ugly face
More terror than its dwelling-place
Contains, (O dreadful sin)
Within!

THE RECOVERY

Sin! wilt thou vanquish me!
And shall I yield the victory?
Shall all my joys be spoiled,
And pleasures soiled
By thee!
Shall I remain
As one that's slain
And never more lift up the head?
Is not my Saviour dead!
His blood, thy bane, my balsam, bliss, joy, wine,
Shall thee destroy; heal, feed, make me divine.

[THE GLORY OF ISRAEL]

I

In Salem dwelt a glorious King,
Rais'd from a shepherd's lowly state,
That did His praises like an angel sing
Who did the world create.
By many great and bloody wars
He was advanced unto thrones:
But more delighted in the stars
Than in the splendour of his precious stones.
Nor gold nor silver did his eye regard:
The works of God were his sublime reward.

II

A warlike champion he had been,
And many feats of chivalry
Had done: in kingly courts his eye had seen
A vast variety
Of earthly joys: yet he despised
Those fading honours and false pleasures
Which are by mortals so much prized;
And placed his happiness in other treasures:
No state of life which in this world we find
Could yield contentment to his greater mind.

III

His fingers touched his trembling lyre,
And every quivering string did yield
A sound that filled all the Jewish quire,
And echoed in the field.
No pleasure was so great to him
As in a silent night to see
The moon and stars: a Cherubim
Above them even here he seemed to be.
Enflamed with love it was his great desire,
To sing, contemplate, ponder, and admire.

IV

He was a prophet and foresaw
Things extant in the world to come:
He was a judge and ruled by a law
That than the honeycomb
Was sweeter far: he was a sage,
And all his people could advise;
An oracle whose every page
Contained in verse the greatest mysteries:
But most he then enjoy'd himself when he
Did as a poet praise the Deity.

V

A shepherd, soldier, and divine,
A judge, a courtier, and a king,
Priest, angel, prophet, oracle did shine
At once when he did sing.
Philosopher and poet too
Did in his melody appear;
All these in him did please the view
Of those that did his Heavenly music hear,
And every drop that from his flowing quill
Came down did all the world with nectar fill.

VI

He had a deep and perfect sense
Of all the glories and the pleasures
That in God's works are hid; the excellence
Of such transcendent treasures
Made him on earth an Heavenly King,
And fill'd his solitudes with joy;
He never did more sweetly sing
Than when alone, tho' that doth mirth destroy:
Sense did his soul with Heavenly life inspire
And made him seem in God's celestial quire.

VII

Rich, sacred, deep and precious things
Did here on earth the man surround:
With all the glory of the King of Kings
He was most strangely crown'd.
His clear soul and open sight
Among the Sons of God did see
Things filling angels with delight;
His ear did hear their Heavenly melodie
And when he was alone he all became,
That Bliss implied, or did increase his fame.

VIII

All arts he then did exercise;
And as his God he did adore,
By secret ravishments above the skies
He carried was before
He died. His soul did see and feel
What others know not; and became,
While he before his God did kneel,
A constant Heavenly pure seraphic flame.
O that I might unto his throne aspire,
And all his joys above the stars admire.

ASPIRATION

I

Unto the spring of purest life
Aspires my withered heart,
My soul confined in this flesh
Employs both strength and art
Working, struggling, suing still
From exile home to part.

II

Who can utter the full joy
Which that high place doth hold,
Where all the buildings founded are
On orient pearls untold,
And all the work of those high rooms
Doth shine with beams of gold!

III

The season is not changed, but still
Both sun and moon are Bright,
The Lamb of this fair city is
That clear immortal Light
Whose presence makes eternal day
Which never ends in night.

IV

Nay all the Saints themselves shall shine
As bright as brightest sun,
In fullest Triumph crowned they
To mutual joys shall run,
And safely count their fights and foes
When once the war is done.

V

For being freed from all defect
They feel no fleshly war,
Or rather both the flesh and mind
At length united are,
For joying in so rich a peace
They can admit no jar.

VI

For ever cheerful and content
They from mishaps are free;
No sickness there can threaten health,
Nor young men old can be:
There they enjoy such happy state
That in't no change they see.

VII

Who know the Knower of all things
What can they choose but know?
They all behold each other's hearts
And all their secrets shew:
One act of will and of not will
From all their minds do flow.

VIII

Though all their merits diverse be
According to their pains,
Yet Love doth make that every one's
Which any other gains,
And all which doth belong to one
To all of them pertains.

IX

O Happy Soul which shall behold
Thy King still present there,
And mayst from thence behold the world
Run round, secure from fear,
With stars and planets, moon and sun,
Still moving in their sphere!

X

O King of Kings give me such strength
In this great War depending,
That I may here prevail at length,
And ever be ascending,
Till I at last arrive to Thee,
The Source of all Felicity!

[This poem is not Traherne's, though I have copied it from
his manuscript volume of "Meditations and Devotions." It is a
translation of S. Peter Damiani's hymn, "Ad Perennis Vitæ Fontem,"
which has been many times rendered into English. The above
translation is from "The Meditations, Manuall, and Soliloquia of the
Glorious Doctour, St. Augustine," 1631. But it is much abridged and
altered in Traherne's version, and for that reason I have printed it
here. Those who wish to refer to the original version will find it
among the "Inedited Sacred Poems," at the end of Mr. W. T. Brooke's
edition of Giles Fletcher's "Christ's Victory and Triumph."]

[SUPPLICATION][K]

I

Come, Holy Ghost, Eternal God,
Our hearts with Life inspire,
Enkindle zeal in all our Souls,
And fill us with Thy Heavenly fire.

II

Send forth Thy Beams and let Thy Grace
Upon my spirit shine,
That I may all Thy works enjoy,
Revive, sing praises, be Divine.

AN HYMN UPON ST. BARTHOLOMEW'S DAY

I

What powerful Spirit lives within!
What active Angel doth inhabit here!
What heavenly light inspires my skin,
Which doth so like a Deity appear!
A Living Temple of all ages, I
Within me see
A Temple of Eternity!
All Kingdoms I descry
In me.

II

An inward Omnipresence here
Mysteriously like His within me stands
Whose knowledge is a Sacred Sphere
That in itself at once includes all lands.
There is some Angel that within me can
Both talk and move,
And walk and fly and see and love,
A man on earth, a man
Above.

III

Dull walls of clay my Spirit leaves,
And in a foreign Kingdom doth appear,
This great Apostle it receives
Admires His works and sees them, standing here.
Within myself from East to West I move
As if I were
At once a Cherubim and Sphere,
Or was at once above
And here.