Classic Poem

I

N O walls confine! Can nothing hold my mind?
Can I no rest nor satisfaction find?
Must I behold eternity
And see
What things above the Heav'ns be?
Will nothing serve the turn?
Nor earth, nor seas, nor skies?
Till I what lies
In time's beginning find;
Must I till then for ever burn?

Not all the crowns; not all the heaps of gold
On earth; not all the tales that can be told,
Will satisfaction yield to me:
Nor tree,
Nor shade, nor sun, nor Eden, be
A joy: nor gems in gold,
(Be't pearl or precious stone,)
Nor spring, nor flowers,
Answer my craving powers,
Nor anything that eyes behold.

Till I what was before all time descry,
The world's beginning seems but vanity.
My soul doth there long thoughts extend;
No end
Doth find, or being comprehend:
Yet somewhat sees that is
The obscure shady face
Of endless space,
All room within; where I
Expect to meet eternal bliss.
II

This busy, vast, inquiring soul
Brooks no control,
No limits will endure,
Nor any rest: it will all see,
Not time alone, but ev'n eternity.
What is it? Endless sure.

'Tis mean ambition to desire
A single world:
To many I aspire,
Though one upon another hurl'd:
Nor will they all, if they be all confin'd,
Delight my mind.

This busy, vast, inquiring soul
Brooks no control:
'Tis very curious too.
Each one of all those worlds must be
Enriched with infinite variety
And worth; or 'twill not do.

'Tis nor delight nor perfect pleasure
To have a purse
That hath a bottom in its treasure,
Since I must thence endless expense disburse.
Sure there's a God (for else there's no delight)
One infinite.