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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. Thomas Traherne Thomas Traherne's other poems: Poems of the other poets with the same name: 2328 Views |
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