Regeneration
A
ward,
and
still
in
bonds,
one
day
I
stole
abroad;
It
was
high
spring,
and
all
the
way
Primrosed
and
hung
with
shade;
Yet
was
it
frost
within,
And
surly
winds
Blasted
my
infant
buds,
and
sin
Like
clouds
eclipsed
my
mind.
Stormed
thus,
I
straight
perceived
my
spring
Mere
stage
and
show,
My
walk
a
monstrous
mountained
thing,
Rough-cast
with
rocks
and
snow;
And
as
a
pilgrim's
eye,
Far
from
relief,
Measures
the
melancholy
sky,
Then
drops
and
rains
for
grief,
So
sighed
I
upwards
still;
at
last
'Twixt
steps
and
falls
I
reached
the
pinnacle,
where
placed
I
found
a
pair
of
scales;
I
took
them
up
and
laid
In
th'
one,
late
pains;
The
other
smoke
and
pleasures
weighed,
But
proved
the
heavier
grains.
With
that
some
cried,
"Away!"
Straight
I
Obeyed,
and
led
Full
east,
a
fair,
fresh
field
could
spy;
Some
called
it
Jacob's
bed,
A
virgin
soil
which
no
Rude
feet
ere
trod,
Where,
since
he
stepped
there,
only
go
Prophets
and
friends
of
God.
Here
I
reposed;
but
scarce
well
set,
A
grove
descried
Of
stately
height,
whose
branches
met
And
mixed
on
every
side;
I
entered,
and
once
in,
Amazed
to
see
't,
Found
all
was
changed,
and
a
new
spring
Did
all
my
senses
greet.
The
unthrift
sun
shot
vital
gold,
A
thousand
pieces,
And
heaven
its
azure
did
unfold,
Checkered
with
snowy
fleeces;
The
air
was
all
in
spice,
And
every
bush
A
garland
wore;
thus
fed
my
eyes,
But
all
the
ear
lay
hush.
Only
a
little
fountain
lent
Some
use
for
ears,
And
on
the
dumb
shades
language
spent,
The
music
of
her
tears;
I
drew
her
near,
and
found
The
cistern
full
Of
divers
stones,
some
bright
and
round,
Others
ill-shaped
and
dull.
The
first,
pray
mark,
as
quick
as
light
Danced
through
the
flood,
But
the
last,
more
heavy
than
the
night,
Nailed
to
the
center
stood;
I
wondered
much,
but
tired
At
last
with
thought,
My
restless
eye
that
still
desired
As
strange
an
object
brought.
It
was
a
bank
of
flowers
where
I
descried,
Though
'twas
midday,
Some
fast
asleep,
others
broad-eyed
And
taking
in
the
ray;
Here
musing
long,
I
heard
A
rushing
wind
Which
still
increased,
but
whence
it
stirred
No
where
I
could
not
find.
I
turned
me
round,
and
to
each
shade
Dispatched
an
eye
To
see
if
any
leaf
had
made
Least
motion
or
reply,
But
while
I
list'ning
sought
My
mind
to
ease
By
knowing
where
'twas,
or
where
not,
It
whispered,
"Where
I
please."
"Lord,"
then
said
I,
"on
me
one
breath,
And
let
me
die
before
my
death!"
