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Poem by Thomas Traherne The Instruction 1 Spue out thy filth, thy flesh abjure; Let not Contingents thee defile. For Transients only are impure, And Aery things thy soul beguil. 2 Unfelt, unseen let those things be Which to thy Spirit were unknown, When to thy Blessed Infancy The World, thy Self, thy God was shewn. 3 All that is Great and Stable stood Before thy Purer Eys at first: All that in Visibles is Good Or pure, or fair, or unaccurst. 4 Whatever els thou now dost see In Custom, Action, or Desire, Tis but a Part of Miserie In which all Men at once conspire. Thomas Traherne Thomas Traherne's other poems: 2238 Views |
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