The world - Henry Vaughan

            1.

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 is hours, days, years
    Driven by the spheres 
Like a vast shadow mov'd, in which the world
    And all her train were hurl'd; 
The doting lover in his quaintest strain
    Did there complain, 
Near him, his lute, his fancy, and his flights,
    Wit's sour delights, 
With gloves, and knots the silly snares of pleasure
    Yet his dear treasure 
All scatter'd lay, while he his eyes did pour
    Upon a flower.

              2.

The darksome statesman hung with weights and woe
Like a thick midnight fog mov'd there so slow
He did nor stay, nor go;
Condemning thoughts (like sad eclipses) scowl
    Upon his soul, 
And clouds of crying witnesses without
Pursued him with one shout.
Yet digg'd the mole, and lest his ways be found
    Work'd under ground, 
Where he did clutch his prey, but one did see
    That policy, 
Churches and altars fed him, perjuries
    Were gnats and flies, 
It rain'd about him blood and tears, but he
    Drank them as free.

              3.

The fearful miser on a heap of rust
Sat pining all his life there, did scarce trust
His own hands with the dust,
But would not place one piece above, but lives
    In fear of thieves. 
Thousands there were as frantic as himself
And hugg'd each one his pelf,
The downright epicure plac'd heav'n in sense
    And scorn'd pretnece 
While others slipt into a wide excess
    Said little less; 
The weaker sort slight, trivial wares enslave
    Who think them brave, 
And poor, despised Truth sat counting by
    Their victory.

              4.

Yet some, who all this while did weep and sing,
And sing, and weep, soar'd up into the Ring,
But most would use no wing.
O fools (said I,) thus to prefer dark night
    Before true light, 
To live in grots, and caves, and hate the day
Because it shows the way,
The way which from the dead and dark abode
    Leads up to God, 
A way where you might tread the Sun, and be
    More bright than he. 
But as I did their madness so discuss
    One whisper'd thus, 
"This Ring the Bridegroom did for none provide
    But for his bride."

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Henry Vaughan (1621 — 1695) Wales
Source: Poet's Corner