As if the tidings were the things, My very joys themselves, my foreign treasure, Or else did bear them on their wings; With so much joy they came, with so much pleasure. My Soul stood at that gate To recreate Itself with bliss: And to Be pleased with speed. A fuller view It fain would take, Yet journeys back would make Unto my heart: as if 'twould fain Go out to meet, yet stay within To fit a place, to entertain, And bring the tidings in. III What sacred instinct did inspire My Soul in childhood with a hope so strong? What secret force mov'd my desire To expect my joys beyond the seas, so young? Felicity I knew Was out of view: And being here alone, I saw that happiness was gone From me! For this, I thirsted absent bliss, And thought that sure beyond the seas, Or else in something near at hand I knew not yet, (since nought did please I knew) my Bliss did stand. IV But little did the infant dream That all the treasures of the world were by: And that himself was so the cream And crown of all which round about did lie. Yet thus it was: The gem, The diadem, The ring enclosing all That stood upon this earthly ball; The Heavenly Eye, Much wider than the sky, Wherein they all included were, The glorious Soul that was the King Made to possess them, did appear A small and little thing! [THE TRIUMPH] I A life of Sabbaths here beneath! Continual Jubilees and Joys! The days of Heaven, while we breathe On Earth! where sin all bliss destroys: This is a triumph of delights That doth exceed all appetites! No joy can be compared to this, It is a life of perfect bliss. II Or perfect bliss! How can it be? To conquer Satan and to reign In such a vale of misery, Where vipers, stings and tears remain, Is to be crowned with victory. To be content, divine, and free Even here beneath is great delight, And next the beatific sight. III But inward lusts do oft assail, Temptations work us much annoy; We'll therefore weep, and to prevail Shall be a more celestial joy. To have no other enemy But one; and to that one to die: To fight with that and conquer it, Is better than in peace to sit. IV 'Tis better for a little time: For he that all his lusts doth quell, Shall find this life to be his prime, And vanquish sin and conquer hell. The next shall be his double joy, And that which here seemed to destroy Shall in the other life appear A root of Bliss; a pearl each tear. [THE ONLY ILL] I