ODE XXXVI
1
Huge weight of Earth, and Sin;
Which clogs my lab'ring Thoughts, in their uprise;
I am not wise
Enough to breake my Chaine, or cast my Skin
With prudent Adders: could I slip
From my old Slime, how would I skip!
In my new Robes, of Innocence and veiwe
Things in their Causes, absolute and true.
2
Then, in a scornfull heat,
And brave Disdaine, enfranchis'd would I flye,
To kisse that Skye,
Wee now admire; and find a fixed Seat
Above the lower Region, where
Th' attractive Earth, I need not feare;
But move without my Load, and at one Step
As eas'ly mount the orbe, as downward leape.
3
There could I see, and scorne
The busie toyle of Mankind, in their waies;
Their nights, and Dayes,
How fruitles, to the End; as were they borne
To satisfye their Lust, and Pride,
To their owne Sence diversifyed;
And added nothing, to the gen'rall frame,
But a meer thing, put in to have a name.
4
How everie other Thing
Applies its part! and has a Motion,
Which (though unknowne)
Doubtles, it doth aright performe; and bring
Its little, to maintaine the whole:
Man onlie, who should have a Soule
More noble and refin'd, by nature made
Surveiour of the worke, doth nothing Adde.
5
Diverted from the charge,
Entrusted to him meerly: as beyond
In face and mind,
The other Creatures: with a Thought, as large
As all the orbes, and wider too;
Truth, (whose vast Circle none can know)
Was onlie bigger; and the Light of Truth,
Met full and radiant here, from North to South.
6
Thus once; but now, alas,
The most despised object of the world;
From all this hurl'd,
A Slave to Passion, and his owne disgrace;
Baited by Follie, and Surprised,
In the great Snare, which Hee devis'd
Of pleasant vanitie; and all the boast
Hee had of Dignitie and worth, is lost.
7
Poor Sand of Earth, how lost
To thy owne ruine art thou, in thy will?
And plotting Still
Further destruction! as though all were lost
Of thy Creation, in thy Selfe;
Now made a wracke, upon the Shelfe
Of Ignorance, hopest there thy selfe to Save
From utter Death, and the devouring wave.
1
Huge weight of Earth, and Sin;
Which clogs my lab'ring Thoughts, in their uprise;
I am not wise
Enough to breake my Chaine, or cast my Skin
With prudent Adders: could I slip
From my old Slime, how would I skip!
In my new Robes, of Innocence and veiwe
Things in their Causes, absolute and true.
2
Then, in a scornfull heat,
And brave Disdaine, enfranchis'd would I flye,
To kisse that Skye,
Wee now admire; and find a fixed Seat
Above the lower Region, where
Th' attractive Earth, I need not feare;
But move without my Load, and at one Step
As eas'ly mount the orbe, as downward leape.
3
There could I see, and scorne
The busie toyle of Mankind, in their waies;
Their nights, and Dayes,
How fruitles, to the End; as were they borne
To satisfye their Lust, and Pride,
To their owne Sence diversifyed;
And added nothing, to the gen'rall frame,
But a meer thing, put in to have a name.
4
How everie other Thing
Applies its part! and has a Motion,
Which (though unknowne)
Doubtles, it doth aright performe; and bring
Its little, to maintaine the whole:
Man onlie, who should have a Soule
More noble and refin'd, by nature made
Surveiour of the worke, doth nothing Adde.
5
Diverted from the charge,
Entrusted to him meerly: as beyond
In face and mind,
The other Creatures: with a Thought, as large
As all the orbes, and wider too;
Truth, (whose vast Circle none can know)
Was onlie bigger; and the Light of Truth,
Met full and radiant here, from North to South.
6
Thus once; but now, alas,
The most despised object of the world;
From all this hurl'd,
A Slave to Passion, and his owne disgrace;
Baited by Follie, and Surprised,
In the great Snare, which Hee devis'd
Of pleasant vanitie; and all the boast
Hee had of Dignitie and worth, is lost.
7
Poor Sand of Earth, how lost
To thy owne ruine art thou, in thy will?
And plotting Still
Further destruction! as though all were lost
Of thy Creation, in thy Selfe;
Now made a wracke, upon the Shelfe
Of Ignorance, hopest there thy selfe to Save
From utter Death, and the devouring wave.