Silex scintillans, or, Sacred poems and priuate eiaculations by Henry Vaughan ...

The Dawning.

AH! what time wilt thou come? when shall that crie The Bridegroome's Comming! fil the sky? Shall it in the Evening run When our words and works are done? Or wil thy all-surprizing light Break at midnight? When either sleep, or some dark pleasure Possesseth mad man without measure; Or shal these early, fragrant hours Unlock thy bowres? And with their blush of light descry Thy locks crown'd with eternitie; Indeed, it is the only time That with thy glory doth best chime, All now are stirring, ev'ry field Ful hymns doth yield, The whole Creation shakes off night, And for thy shadow looks the light, Stars now vanish without number, Sleepie Planets set, and slumber,

The pursie Clouds disband, and scatter, All expect some sudden matter, Not one beam triumphs, but from far That morning-star;

O at what time soever thou (Unknown to us,) the heavens wilt bow, And, with thy Angels in the Van, Descend to Judge poor careless man, Grant, I may not like puddle lie In a Corrupt securitie, Where, if a traveller water crave, He finds it dead, and in a grave; But as this restless, vocall Spring All day, and night doth run, and sing, And though here born, yet is acquainted Elsewhere, and flowing keeps untainted; So let me all my busie age In thy free services ingage, And though (while here) of force I must Have Commerce somtimes with poor dust, And in my flesh, though vile, and low, As this doth in her Channel, flow, Yet let my Course, my aym, my Love, And chief acquaintance be above; So when that day, and hour shal come In which thy self wil be the Sun, Thou'lt find me drest and on my way, Watching the Break of thy great day.