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Henry Vaughan - The Retreat
Work rating: Medium

.   Happy those early days, when I
     Shin`d in my angel-infancy!
     Before I understood this place
     Appointed for my second race,
     Or taught my soul to fancy ought
     But a white, celestial thought;
     When yet I had not walk`d above
     A mile or two from my first love,
     And looking back (at that short space)
    Could see a glimpse of his bright face;
    When on some gilded cloud or flow`r
    My gazing soul would dwell an hour,
    And in those weaker glories spy
    Some shadows of eternity;
    Before I taught my tongue to wound
    My conscience with a sinful sound,
    Or had the black art to dispense,
    A sev`ral sin to ev`ry sense,
    But felt through all this fleshly dress
    Bright shoots of everlastingness.
        O how I long to travel back,
    And tread again that ancient track!
    That I might once more reach that plain,
    Where first I left my glorious train,
    From whence th` enlighten`d spirit sees
    That shady city of palm trees.
    But ah! my soul with too much stay
    Is drunk, and staggers in the way.
    Some men a forward motion love,
    But I by backward steps would move;
    And when this dust falls to the urn,
    In that state I came, return.
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