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Poem by Thomas Traherne
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1 Ye hidden Nectars, which my GOD doth drink, Ye Heavenly Streams, ye Beams Divine, On which the Angels think, How Quick, how Strongly do ye shine! Ye Images of Joy that in me Dwell, Ye Sweet Mysterious Shades That do all Substances Excell, Whose Glory Never fades; Ye Skies, ye Seas, ye Stars, or things more fair, O ever, ever unto me repair. 2 Ye Pleasant Thoughts! O how that Sun Divine Appears to Day which I did see So Sweetly then to Shine. Even in my very Infancy! Ye rich Ideas which within me live Ye Living Pictures here Ye Spirits that do bring and Give All Joys; when ye appear, Even Heavn it self, and God, and all in You, Come down on Earth, and pleas my Blessed View. 3 I never Glorious Great and Rich am found, Am never ravished with Joy, Till ye my Soul Surround, Till ye my Blessedness display. No Soul but Stone, No Man but Clay am I, No flesh, but Dust; till ye Delight, invade to move my Ey, And do replenish me. My Sweet Informers and my Living Treasures My great Companions, and my only Pleasures! 4 O what Incredible Delights, What Fires, What Appetites, what Joys do ye Occasion, what Desires, What Heavenly Praises! While we see What evry Seraphim above admires! Your Jubilee and Trade Ye are so Strangely, and Divinely made, Shall never, never fade. Ye ravish all my Soul, Of you I twice Will speak. For in the Dark y'are Paradice.
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