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Phillis Wheatley - On Virtue
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O Thou bright jewel in my aim I strive
To comprehend thee.  Thine own words declare
Wisdom is higher than a fool can reach.
I cease to wonder, and no more attempt
Thine height t` explore, or fathom thy profound.
But, O my soul, sink not into despair,
Virtue is near thee, and with gentle hand
Would now embrace thee, hovers o`er thine head.
Fain would the heav`n-born soul with her converse,
Then seek, then court her for her promis`d bliss.
     Auspicious queen, thine heav`nly pinions spread,
And lead celestial Chastity along;
Lo! now her sacred retinue descends,
Array`d in glory from the orbs above.
Attend me, Virtue, thro` my youthful years!
O leave me not to the false joys of time!
But guide my steps to endless life and bliss.
Greatness, or Goodness, say what I shall call thee,
To give me an higher appellation still,
Teach me a better strain, a nobler lay,
O thou, enthron`d with Cherubs in the realms of day.
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