III
This made me present evermore
With whatsoe'er I saw.
An object, if it were before
My eye, was by Dame Nature's law,
Within my soul. Her store
Was all at once within me; all Her treasures
Were my immediate and internal pleasures,
Substantial joys, which did inform my mind.
With all she wrought
My soul was fraught,
And every object in my heart a thought
Begot, or was; I could not tell,
Whether the things did there
Themselves appear,
Which in my Spirit truly seem'd to dwell;
Or whether my conforming mind
Were not even all that therein shin'd.
IV
But yet of this I was most sure,
That at the utmost length,
(So worthy was it to endure)
My soul could best express its strength.
It was so quick and pure,
That all my mind was wholly everywhere,
Whate'er it saw, 'twas ever wholly there;
The sun ten thousand legions off, was nigh:
The utmost star,
Though seen from far,
Was present in the apple of my eye.
There was my sight, my life, my sense,
My substance, and my mind;
My spirit shin'd
Even there, not by a transient influence:
The act was immanent, yet there:
The thing remote, yet felt even here.
V
O Joy! O wonder and delight!
O sacred mystery!
My Soul a Spirit infinite!
An image of the Deity!
A pure substantial light!
That Being greatest which doth nothing seem!
Why, 'twas my all, I nothing did esteem
But that alone. A strange mysterious sphere!
A deep abyss
That sees and is
The only proper place of Heavenly Bliss.
To its Creator 'tis so near
In love and excellence,
In life and sense,
In greatness, worth, and nature; and so dear,
In it, without hyperbole,
The Son and friend of God we see.
VI
A strange extended orb of Joy,
Proceeding from within,
Which did on every side, convey
Itself, and being nigh of kin
To God did every way
Dilate itself even in an instant, and
Like an indivisible centre stand,
At once surrounding all eternity.
'Twas not a sphere,
Yet did appear,
One infinite. 'Twas somewhat everywhere,
And tho' it had a power to see
Far more, yet still it shin'd
And was a mind
Exerted for it saw Infinity.
'Twas not a sphere, but 'twas a might
Invisible, and yet gave light.
VII
O wondrous Self! O sphere of light,
O sphere of joy most fair;
O act, O power infinite;
O subtile and unbounded air!
O living orb of sight!
Thou which within me art, yet me! Thou eye,
And temple of His whole infinity!
O what a world art Thou! A world within!
All things appear
All objects are
Alive in Thee! Supersubstantial, rare,
Above themselves, and nigh of kin
To those pure things we find
In His great mind
Who made the world! Tho' now eclipsed by sin
There they are useful and divine,
Exalted there they ought to shine.
[THE APPREHENSION]
If this I did not every moment see,
And if my thoughts did stray
At any time, or idly play,
And fix on other objects, yet
This Apprehension set
In me
Was all my whole felicity.
[FULLNESS]
That light, that sight, that thought,
Which in my soul at first He wrought,
Is sure the only act to which I may
Assent to-day:
The mirror of an endless life,
The shadow of a virgin wife,
A spiritual world standing within,
An Universe enclosed in skin,
My power exerted, or my perfect Being,
If not enjoying, yet an act of seeing.
My bliss
Consists in this,
My duty too
In this I view.
It is a fountain or a spring,
Refreshing me in everything.
From whence those living streams I do derive,
By which my thirsty soul is kept alive.
The centre and the sphere
Of my delights are here.
It is my David's tower
Where all my armour lies,
The fountain of my power,
My bliss, my sacrifice:
A little spark
That shining in the dark,
Makes and encourages my soul to rise,
The root of hope, the golden chain,
Whose end is, as the poets feign,
Fastened to the very throne
Of Jove.
It is a stone,
On which I sit,
An endless benefit,
That being made my regal throne,
Doth prove
An Oracle of His Eternal Love.
[NATURE]
That Custom is a second Nature, we
Most plainly find by Nature's purity.
For Nature teacheth nothing but the truth;
I'm sure that mine did in my virgin youth:
The very Day my Spirit did inspire,
The world's fair beauty set my soul on fire.
My senses were informers to my heart,
The conduits of His glory, power, and art.
His greatness, wisdom, goodness, I did see,
His glorious Love, and His Eternitie,
Almost as soon as born; and every sense
Was in me like to some Intelligence.
I was by nature prone and apt to love
All light and beauty, both in Heaven above,
And Earth beneath, prone even to admire,
Adore, and praise as well as to desire.
My inclinations raised me up on high,
And guided me to all Infinity.
A secret self I had enclosed within,
That was not bounded with my clothes or skin,
Or terminated with my sight, the sphere
Of which was bounded with the Heavens here:
But that did rather, like the subtile light,
Secured from rough and raging storms by night,
Break through the lanthorn's sides, and freely ray
Dispersing and dilating every way:
Whose steady beams too subtile for the wind,
Are such that we their bounds can scarcely find.
It did encompass, and possess rare things,
But yet felt more, and on its angel's wings
Pierced through the skies immediately, and sought
For all that could beyond all worlds be thought.
It did not move, nor one way go, but stood,
And by dilating of itself, all good
It strove to see, as if 'twere present there,
Even while it present stood conversing here:
And more suggested than I could discern,
Or ever since by any means could learn.
Vast, unaffected wonderful desires,
Like inward, native, uncaus'd hidden fires,
Sprang up with expectations very strange,
Which into new desires did quickly change:
For all I saw beyond the azure round,
Was endless darkness with no beauty crown'd.
Why beauty should not there, as well as here,
Why goodness should not likewise there appear,
Why treasures and delights should bounded be,
Since there is such a wide Infinitie;
These were the doubts and troubles of my Soul,
By which I do perceive without control,
A world of endless joys by Nature made,
That needs must flourish ever, never fade.
A wide, magnificent and spacious sky,
So rich 'tis worthy of the Deity,
Clouds here and there like winged charets flying,
Flowers ever flourishing, yet always dying,
A day of glory where I all things see,
As 'twere enrich'd with beams of light for me,
And drown'd in glorious rays of purer light,
Succeeded with a black, yet glorious night;
Stars sweetly shedding to my pleased sense,
On all things their nocturnal influence,
With secret rooms in times and ages more,
Past and to come enlarging my great store:
These all in order present unto me
My happy eyes did in a moment see,
With wonders there-too, to my Soul unknown,
Till they by men and reading first were shewn.
All which were made that I might ever be
With some great workman, some Great Deity.
But yet there were new rooms and spaces more,
Beyond all these, new regions o'er and o'er,
Into all which my pent-up Soul like fire
Did break, surmounting all I here admire.
The spaces fill'd were like a cabinet
Of joys before me most distinctly set:
The empty like to large and vacant room
For fancy to enlarge in, and presume
A space for more, remov'd, but yet adorning
Those near at hand, that pleased me every morning.
Here I was seated to behold new things,
In the fair fabric of the King of Kings.
All, all was mine. The fountain tho' not known,
Yet that there must be one was plainly shewn,
Which fountain of delights must needs be Love,
As all the goodness of the things did prove.
It shines upon me from the highest skies,
And all its creatures for my sake doth prize,
Of whose enjoyment I am made the end,
While how the same is so I comprehend.