Poem by Thomas Traherne

The Return

To Infancy, O Lord, again I com,
That I my Manhood may improv:
My early Tutor is the Womb;
I still my Cradle lov.
'Tis strange that I should Wisest be,
When least I could an Error see.

Till I gain strength against Temptation, I
Perceiv it safest to abide
An Infant still; and therfore fly
(A lowly State may hide
A man from Danger) to the Womb,
That I may yet New-born becom.

My God, thy Bounty then did ravish me!
Before I learned to be poor,
I always did thy Riches see,
And thankfully adore:
Thy Glory and thy Goodness were
My sweet Companions all the Year.

1. A Life of Sabbaths Here Beneath
2. In Making Bodies Love Could Not Express
3. Sin
4. Shadows in the Water
5. An Hymn upon St. Bartholomew's Day

Annie Fields The Return ("The bright sea washed beneath her feet")

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