Some vanity, I know, is in this strain, But men may be with reason sometimes vain: Shall he alone who does a worthy deed Not pay himself, if so he will, that meed Of self-applause from which all virtues spring,-- Without it who would do a noble thing? So let the world arraign me as it will, It cannot now my satisfaction chill, Since you, dear friend! and all whose praise I prize, Look on my labours with approving eyes. This book to you 'tis fit I dedicate Since you, my friend, so well appreciate-- Nay, rather love, our poets of old time, Responding ever to their notes sublime: Who, though you treasure most those sons of light, Whose radiance glitters on the brow of night, Do not despise the faintest twinkling star That shines where Shakespeare, Spenser, Milton are: Who can, like Lamb, a brilliant flower descry Where all seems sterile to the common eye, Who, like Lamb, too, to no strait bounds confined, Have room for all fair fancies in your mind, And, with a taste that never errs, discover Faults like a censor, beauties like a lover. Here is another offering for your store, Though not arrayed in that brown garb of yore Which, with quaint type and paper stained with age, Were for the Spirit of our Poet-Sage A fitter dwelling, more becoming page. I could not give him these, and so have sought To match his noble and exalted thought With the best raiment that our time affords Of comely type, fine paper, seemly boards, Which, centuries hence, to our children's children's eyes May have an antique look which they shall prize, When Traherne's name, familiar to their ears, Shall hold assured a place among his peers. CONTENTS PAGE DEDICATION v CONTENTS ix INTRODUCTION xiii THE SALUTATION 1 WONDER 4 EDEN 8 INNOCENCE 11 THE PREPARATIVE 15 THE INSTRUCTION 19 THE VISION 21 THE RAPTURE 24 THE IMPROVEMENT 26 THE APPROACH 31 DUMBNESS 34 SILENCE 38 MY SPIRIT 42 THE APPREHENSION 48 FULLNESS 49 NATURE 51 EASE 55 SPEED 58 THE CHOICE 60