Henry Vaughan

"As men are killed by fighting, the truth is lost in disputing."

"Holy writing must strive (by all means) for perfection and true holiness, that a door may be opened to him in heaven."

"Dear Night! this world's defeat; The stop to busy fools; care's check and curb; The day of spirits; my soul's calm retreat Which none disturb! Christ's progress, and His prayer-time; The hours to which high Heaven doth chime."

"There is in God — some say — A deep, but dazzling darkness; as men here Say it is late and dusky, because they See not all clear. O for that Night! where I in Him Might live invisible and dim!"

"Happy those early days, when I Shined in my angel-infancy! Before I understood this place Appointed for my second race."

"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 flower 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 several sin to every sense, But felt through all this fleshly dress Bright shoots of everlastingness."

"Some men a forward motion love, But I by backward steps would move."

"I cannot reach it, and my striving eye Dazzles at it, as at eternity. Were now that chronicle alive, Those white designs which children drive, And the thoughts of each harmless hour, With their content too in my pow'r, Quickly would I make my path even, And by mere playing go to heaven."

"Why should I not love childhood still? Why, if I see a rock or shelf, Shall I from thence cast down myself? Or by complying with the world, From the same precipice be hurled? Those observations are but foul, Which make me wise to lose my soul. And yet the practice worldlings call Business, and weighty action all, Checking the poor child for his play, But gravely cast themselves away."

"Dear, harmless age! the short, swift span Where weeping Virtue parts with man; Where love without lust dwells, and bends What way we please without self-ends. An age of mysteries! which he Must live that would God's face see Which angels guard, and with it play, Angels! which foul men drive away."

"I saw Eternity the other night Like a great ring of pure and endless light. All calm, as it was bright; And round beneath it, Time in hours, days, years, Driv'n by the spheres Like a vast shadow moved; in which the world And all her train were hurled."

"They are all gone into the world of light! And I alone sit lingering here; Their very memory is fair and bright, And my sad thoughts doth clear."

"I see them walking in an air of glory Whose light doth trample on my days, My days, which are at best but dull and hoary, Mere glimmering and decays."

"Dear, beauteous death, the jewel of the just! Shining nowhere but in the dark; What mysteries do lie beyond thy dust, Could man outlook that mark!"

"And yet, as angels in some brighter dreams Call to the soul when man doth sleep, So some strange thoughts transcend our wonted themes, And into glory peep."

"My soul, there is a country Far beyond the stars Where stands a wingèd sentry All skillful in the wars: There, above noise and danger, Sweet Peace is crowned with smiles, And One born in a manger Commands the beauteous files."

"Still young and fine! but what is still in view We slight as old and soil'd, though fresh and new."

"When thou dost shine, darkness looks white and fair, Forms turn to musick, clouds to smiles and air; Rain gently spends his honey-drops, and pours Balm on the cleft earth, milk on grass and flowers. Bright pledge of peace and sun-shine! the sure tye Of thy Lord's hand, the object of his eye. When I behold thee, though my light be dim, Distant, and low, I can in thine see Him Who looks upon thee from his glorious throne, And mindes the covenant 'twixt all and One."

"I will on thee as on a comet look, A comet, the sad world's ill-boding book; Thy light as luctual and stain'd with woes I'll judge, where penal flames sit mixt and close. But though some think thou shin'st but to restrain Bold storms, and simply dost attend on rain; Yet I know well, and so our sins require, Thou dost but court cold rain, till rain turns fire."

"Tempests and windes and winter-nights Vex not, that but One sees thee grow, That One made all these lesser lights. If those bright joys He singly sheds On thee, were all met in one crown, Both sun and stars would hide their heads ; And moons, though full, would get them down."

"Then bless thy secret growth, nor catch At noise, but thrive unseen and dumb; Keep clean, be as fruit, earn life, and watch Till the white-wing’d reapers come!"