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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE MUTINY, by HENRY VAUGHAN Poet Analysis Poet's Biography
First Line: Weary of this same clay and straw, I laid
Last Line: Both live and die thy child.
Alternate Author Name(s): Silurist
First Line: Weary of this same clay and straw, I laid
Last Line: Both live and die thy child.
Alternate Author Name(s): Silurist
Weary of this same clay and straw, I laid
Me down to breathe, and casting in my heart
The after-burthens and griefs yet to come,
The heavy sum
So shook my breast, that (sick and sore dismayed)
My thoughts, like water which some stone doth start,
Did quit their troubled channel, and retire
Unto the banks, where, storming at those bounds,
They murmured sore; but I, who felt them boil
And knew their coil,
Turning to him, who made poor sand to tire
And tame proud waves, If yet these barren grounds
And thirsty brick must be (said I)
My task and destiny,
2
Let me so strive and struggle with thy foes
(Not thine alone, but mine too) that when all
Their arts and force are built unto the height
That Babel-weight
May prove thy glory and their shame; so close
And knit me to thee, that though in this vale
Of sin and death I sojourn, yet one eye
May look to thee, to thee the finisher
And Author of my faith; so show me home
That all this foam
And frothy noise which up and down doth fly
May find no lodging in mine eye or ear,
O seal them up! that these may fly
Like other tempests by.
3
Not but I know thou hast a shorter cut
To bring me home, than through a wilderness,
A sea, or sands and serpents; yet since thou
(As thy words show)
Though in this desert I were wholly shut,
Canst light and lead me there with such redress
That no decay shall touch me; O be pleased
To fix my steps, and whatsoever path
Thy sacred and eternal will decreed
For thy bruised reed
O give it full obedience, that so seized
Of all I have, I may nor move thy wrath
Nor grieve thy Dove, but soft and mild
Both live and die thy Child.