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Silex Scintillans
Vanity of Spirit

by Henry Vaughan

Quite spent with thoughts, I left my cell, and lay 
Where a shrill spring tun'd to the early day. 
      I begg'd here long, and groan'd to know 
      Who gave the clouds so brave a bow, 
      Who bent the spheres, and circled in 
      Corruption with this glorious ring ; 
      What is His name, and how I might 
      Descry some part of His great light. 
I summon'd Nature ; pierc'd through all her store ; 
Broke up some seals, which none had touch'd before 
      Her womb, her bosom, and her head, 
      Where all her secrets lay abed, 
      I rifled quite ; and having past 
      Through all the creatures, came at last 
      To search my self, where I did find 
      Traces, and sounds of a strange kind. 
Here of this mighty spring I found some drills, 
With echoes beaten from th' eternal hills. 
      Weak beams and fires flash'd to my sight, 
      Like a young East, or moonshine night, 
      Which show'd me in a nook cast by 
      A piece of much antiquity, 
      With hieroglyphics quite dismember'd, 
      And broken letters scarce remember'd. 
I took them up, and-much joy'd-went about 
T' unite those pieces, hoping to find out 
      The mystery ; but this ne'er done, 
      That little light I had was gone. 
      It griev'd me much.   At last, said I, 
      “Since in these veils my eclips'd eye 
      May not approach Thee—for at night 
      Who can have commerce with the light ?- 
      I'll disapparel, and to buy 
      But one half-glance, most gladly die."
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