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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
REGENERATION, by HENRY VAUGHAN Poem Explanation Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: A ward, and still in bonds, one day Last Line: "and let me die before my death!" Alternate Author Name(s): Silurist Subject(s): Bible; Redemption; Religion; Theology | |||
A ward, and still in bonds, one day I stole abroad; It was high spring, and all the way Primrosed and hung with shade; Yet was it frost within, And surly winds Blasted my infant buds, and sin Like clouds eclipsed my mind. Stormed thus, I straight perceived my spring Mere stage and show, My walk a monstruous, mountained thing, Roughcast with rocks and snow; And a pilgrim's eye, Far from relief, Measures the melancholy sky, Then drops and rains for grief, So sighed I upwards still; at last 'Twixt steps and falls I reached the pinnacle, where placed I found a pair of scales; I took them up and laid In th' one, late pains; The other smoke and pleasure weighed, But proved the heavier grains. With that some cried, "Away!" Straight I Obeyed, And led Full east, a fair, fresh field could spy; Some called it Jacob's bed, A virgin soil which no Rude feet ere trod, Where, since he stepped there, only go Prophets and friends of God. Here I reposed; but scarce well set, A grove descried Of stately height, whose branches met And mixed on every side; I entered, and once in, Amazed to see 't, Found all was changed, and a new spring Did all my senses greet. The unthrift sun shot vital gold, A thousand pieces, And heaven its azure did unfold, Checkered with snowy fleeces; The air was all in spice, And every bush A garland wore: thus fed my eyes, But all the ear lay hush. Only a little fountain lent Some use for ears, And on the dumb shades language spent, The music of her tears; I drew her near, and found The cistern full Of divers stones, some bright and round, Others ill-shaped and dull. The first, pray mark, as quick as light Danced through the flood, But the last, more heavy than the night, Nailed to the center stood; I wondered much, but tired At last with thought, My restless eye that still desired As strange an object brought. It was a bank of flowers, where I descried Though 'twas midday, Some fast asleep, others broad-eyed And taking in the ray; Here, musing long, I heard A rushing wind Which stil increased, but whence it stirred No where I could not find. I turned me round, and to each shade Dispatched an eye To see if any leaf had made Least motion or reply, But while I listening sought My mind to ease By knowing where 'twas, or where not, It whispered, "Where I please." "Lord," then said I, "on me one breath, And let me die before my death!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MYSTIC BOUNCE by TERRANCE HAYES MATHEMATICS CONSIDERED AS A VICE by ANTHONY HECHT UNHOLY SONNET 11 by MARK JARMAN SHINE, PERISHING REPUBLIC by ROBINSON JEFFERS THE COMING OF THE PLAGUE by WELDON KEES |
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