THIS twilight of two years, not past, nor next, |
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Some emblem is of me, or I of this; |
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Who—meteor-like, of stuff and form perplex’d, |
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Whose what and where in disputation is— |
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If I should call me anything, should miss. |
5 |
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I sum the years, and me, and find me not |
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Debtor to th’ old, nor creditor to th’ new. |
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That cannot say, “My thanks I have forgot,” |
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Nor trust I this with hopes; and yet scarce true |
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This bravery is, since these times show’d me you. |
10 |
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In recompense I would show future times |
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What you were, and teach them to urge towards such. |
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Verse embalms virtue; and tombs, or thrones, of rhymes |
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Preserve frail transitory fame, as much |
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As spice doth bodies from corrupt airs’ touch. |
15 |
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Mine are short-lived; the tincture of your name |
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Creates in them, but dissipates as fast, |
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New spirits; for strong agents with the same |
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Force, that doth warm and cherish us, do waste; |
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Kept hot with strong extracts, no bodies last. |
20 |
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So, my verse, built of your just praise, might want |
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Reason and likelihood, the firmest base; |
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And made of miracle, now faith is scant, |
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Will vanish soon, and so possess no place; |
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And you, and it, too much grace might disgrace. |
25 |
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When all—as truth commands assent—confess |
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All truth of you, yet they will doubt how I |
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—One corn of one low ant-hill’s dust, and less— |
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Should name, know, or express a thing so high, |
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And—not an inch—measure infinity. |
30 |
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I cannot tell them, nor myself, nor you, |
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But leave, lest truth be endanger’d by my praise, |
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And turn to God, who knows I think this true, |
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And useth oft, when such a heart mis-says, |
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To make it good, for such a praiser prays. |
35 |
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He will best teach you, how you should lay out |
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His stock of beauty, learning, favour, blood; |
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He will perplex security with doubt, |
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And clear those doubts; hide from you, and show you good; |
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And so increase your appetite and food. |
40 |
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He will teach you, that good and bad have not |
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One latitude in cloisters, and in court; |
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Indifferent there the greatest space hath got; |
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Some pity ’s not good there; some vain disport, |
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On this side sin, with that place may comport. |
45 |
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Yet He, as He bounds seas, will fix your hours, |
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Which pleasure and delight may not ingress; |
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And, though what none else lost be truliest yours, |
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He will make you, what you did not, possess, |
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By using others’ (not vice, but) weakness. |
50 |
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He will make you speak truths, and credibly, |
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And make you doubt that others do not so; |
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He will provide you keys, and locks, to spy, |
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And ’scape spies, to good ends, and He will show |
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What you may not acknowledge, what not know. |
55 |
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For your own conscience, He gives innocence, |
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But, for your fame, a discreet wariness; |
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And—though to ’scape, than to revenge offence |
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Be better—He shows both, and to repress |
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Joy, when your state swells, sadness, when ’tis less. |
60 |
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From need of tears He will defend your soul, |
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Or make a re-baptizing of one tear; |
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He cannot—that ’s, He will not—dis-enroll |
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Your name; and when with active joy we hear |
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This private gospel, then ’tis our New Year. |
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