1 One star Is better far Than many precious stones: One sun, which is above in glory seen, Is worth ten thousand golden thrones: A juicy herb, or spire of grass, In useful virtue, native green, An emerald doth surpass; Hath in't more value, tho less seen. 2 No wars, Nor mortal jars, Nor bloody feuds, nor coin, Nor griefs which they occasion, saw I then; Nor wicked thieves which this purloin; I had no thoughts that were impure: Esteeming both women and men God's work, I was secure, And reckon'd peace my choicest gem. 3 As Eve I did believe Myself in Eden set, Affecting neither gold, nor ermin'd crowns, Nor ought else that I need forget; No mud did foul my limpid streams, No mist eclips'd my sun with frowns; Set off with heavenly beams, My joys were meadows, fields, and towns. 4 Those things Which cherubins Did not at first behold Among God's works, which Adam did not see; As robes, and stones enchas'd in gold, Rich cabinets, and such like fine Inventions; could not ravish me: I thought not bowls of wine Needful for my felicity. 5 All bliss Consists in this, To do as Adam did; And not to know those superficial joys Which were from him in Eden hid: Those little new-invented things, Fine lace and silks, such childish toys As ribbons are and rings, Or worldly pelf that us destroys. 6 For God, Both great and good, The seeds of melancholy Created not: but only foolish men, Grown mad with customary folly Which doth increase their wants, so dote As when they elder grow they then Such baubles chiefly note; More fools at twenty years than ten. 7 But I, I knew not why, Did learn among them too At length; and when I once with blemish'd eyes Began their pence and toys to view, Drown'd in their customs, I became A stranger to the shining skies, Lost as a dying flame; And hobby-horses brought to prize. 8 The sun And moon forgone, As if unmade, appear No more to me; to God and Heaven dead I was, as tho they never were: Upon some useless gaudy book, When what I knew of God was fled, The child being taught to look, His soul was quickly murdered. 9 'O fine! O most divine! O brave!' they cried; and show'd Some tinsel thing whose glittering did amaze, And to their cries its beauty owed; Thus I on riches, by degrees, Of a new stamp did learn to gaze; While all the world for these I lost: my joy turn'd to a blaze. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SORROW by AUBREY THOMAS DE VERE CATAWBA WINE by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW AUF WIEDERSEHEN! SUMMER by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL BUDDHA AND BRAHMA by HENRY BROOKS ADAMS LYRICS AND EPICS by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |