Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE ESTATE, by THOMAS TRAHERNE Poet's Biography First Line: But shall my soul no wealth possess Last Line: His ancient ways, are his, and my estate. Subject(s): Soul | ||||||||
1 But shall my soul no wealth possess, No outward riches have? Shall hands and eyes alone express Thy bounty? Which the grave Shall straight devour. Shall I become Within myself a living tomb Of useless wonders? Shall the fair and brave And great endowments of my soul lie waste, Which ought to be a fountain, and a womb Of praises unto Thee? Shall there no outward objects be, For these to see and taste? Not so, my God, for outward joys and pleasures Are even the things for which my limbs are treasures. 2 My palate ought to be a stone To try Thy joys upon; And every member ought to be A tongue, to sing to Thee. There's not an eye that's fram'd by Thee, But ought Thy life and love, to see. Nor is there, Lord, upon mine head an ear, But that the music of Thy works should hear. Each toe, each finger framed by Thy skill, Ought ointments to distil. Ambrosia, nectar, wine should flow From every joint I owe, Or things more rich; while all mine inward powers Are blessed, joyful, and eternal bowers. 3 They ought, my God, to be the pipes, And conduits of Thy praise. Men's bodies were not made for stripes, Nor anything but joys. They were not made to be alone: But made to be the very throne Of blessedness, to be like suns, whose rays, Dispersed, scatter many thousand ways. They drink in nectars, and disburse again In purer beams, those streams, Those nectars which are caus'd by joys. And as the spacious main Doth all the rivers, which it drinks, return, Thy love receiv'd doth make the soul to burn. 4 Elixirs richer are than dross, And ends are more divine Than causes are: material loss Materials (tho they shine Like gold and silver) are, compar'd To what thy spirit doth regard, Thy soul desire, thy love embrace, thy mind Esteem, thy nature most illustrious find. These are the things wherewith we God reward. Our love He more doth prize: Our gratitude is in His eyes, Far richer than the skies. And those affections which we do return, Are like the love which in Himself doth burn. 5 We plough the very skies, as well As earth, the spacious seas Are ours; the stars all gems excel. The air was made to please The souls of men: devouring fire Doth feed and quicken man's desire. The sun itself doth in its glory shine, And gold and silver out of very mire, And pearls and rubies out of earth refine, While herbs and flowers aspire To touch and make our feet divine. How glorious is man's fate! The laws of God, the works He did create, His ancient ways, are His, and my estate. | Other Poems of Interest...THE ANIMAL INSIDE THE ANIMAL by JOSEPHINE JACOBSEN THE CRUEL FALCON by ROBINSON JEFFERS THE WHOLE SOUL by PHILIP LEVINE I KNOW MY SOUL by CLAUDE MCKAY HONORING THE SAND; IN MEMORY OF JOSEPH CAMPBELL by ROBERT BLY THE CHINESE PEAKS; FOR DONALD HALL by ROBERT BLY |
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