'Tis day, my crystal Usk: now the sad night
Resigns her place as tenant to the light.
See the amazed mists begin to fly
And the victorious sun hath got the sky.
How shall I recompense thy streams, that keep
Me and my soul awaked when others sleep?
I watch my stars, I move on with the skies
And weary all the planets with mine eyes.
Shall I seek thy forgotten birth and see
What days are spent since thy nativity?
Didst serve with ancient Kishon? Canst thou tell
So many years as holy Hiddekel?
Thou art not paid in this: I'll levy more
Such harmless contributions from thy store
And dress my soul by thee as thou dost pass,
As I would do my body by my glass.
What a clear, running crystal here I find:
Sure I will strive to gain as clear a mind,
And have my spirits--freed from dross--made light,
That no base puddle may allay their flight.
How I admire thy humble banks: nought's here
But the same simple vesture all the year.
I'll learn simplicity of thee and when
I walk the streets I will not storm at men,
Nor look as if I had a mind to cry:
It is my valiant cloth of gold and I.
Let me not live, but I'm amazed to see
What a clear type thou art of piety.
Why should thy floods enrich those shores, that sin
Against thy liberty and keep thee in?
Thy waters nurse that rude land which enslaves
And captivates thy free and spacious waves.
Most blessed tutors, I will learn of those
To shew my charity unto my foes,
And strive to do some good unto the poor,
As thy streams do unto the barren shore.
All this from thee, my Ysca? Yes, and more;
I am for many virtues on thy score.
Trust me thy waters yet: why--wilt not so?
Let me but drink again and I will go.
I see thy course anticipates my plea:
I'll haste to God, as thou dost to the sea;
And when my eyes in waters drown their beams,
The pious imitations of thy streams,
May every holy, happy, hearty tear
Help me to run to Heaven, as thou dost there.
Resigns her place as tenant to the light.
See the amazed mists begin to fly
And the victorious sun hath got the sky.
How shall I recompense thy streams, that keep
Me and my soul awaked when others sleep?
I watch my stars, I move on with the skies
And weary all the planets with mine eyes.
Shall I seek thy forgotten birth and see
What days are spent since thy nativity?
Didst serve with ancient Kishon? Canst thou tell
So many years as holy Hiddekel?
Thou art not paid in this: I'll levy more
Such harmless contributions from thy store
And dress my soul by thee as thou dost pass,
As I would do my body by my glass.
What a clear, running crystal here I find:
Sure I will strive to gain as clear a mind,
And have my spirits--freed from dross--made light,
That no base puddle may allay their flight.
How I admire thy humble banks: nought's here
But the same simple vesture all the year.
I'll learn simplicity of thee and when
I walk the streets I will not storm at men,
Nor look as if I had a mind to cry:
It is my valiant cloth of gold and I.
Let me not live, but I'm amazed to see
What a clear type thou art of piety.
Why should thy floods enrich those shores, that sin
Against thy liberty and keep thee in?
Thy waters nurse that rude land which enslaves
And captivates thy free and spacious waves.
Most blessed tutors, I will learn of those
To shew my charity unto my foes,
And strive to do some good unto the poor,
As thy streams do unto the barren shore.
All this from thee, my Ysca? Yes, and more;
I am for many virtues on thy score.
Trust me thy waters yet: why--wilt not so?
Let me but drink again and I will go.
I see thy course anticipates my plea:
I'll haste to God, as thou dost to the sea;
And when my eyes in waters drown their beams,
The pious imitations of thy streams,
May every holy, happy, hearty tear
Help me to run to Heaven, as thou dost there.