William Drummond


* * *


How that vast heaven intitled First is roll'd,
If any other worlds beyond it lie,
And people living in eternity,
Or essence pure that doth this All uphold;
What motion have those fixed sparks of gold,
The wand'ring carbuncles which shine from high,
By sprights, or bodies, contrare-ways in sky
If they be turn'd, and mortal things behold;
How sun posts heaven about, how night's pale queen
With borrowed beams looks on this hanging round,
What cause fair Iris hath, and monsters seen
In air's large fields of light, and seas profound,
Did hold my wand'ring thoughts, when thy sweet eye
Bade me leave all, and only think on thee. 






English Poetry - http://eng-poetry.ru/english/index.php. E-mail eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru