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The Poetical Works of Thomas Traherne

by Thomas Traherne

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Goodness

I

The bliss of other men is my delight,
  (When once my principles are right:)
  And every soul which mine doth see
     A treasury.
The face of God is goodness unto all,
And while He thousands to His throne doth call,
  While millions bathe in pleasures,
  And do behold His treasures,
     The joys of all
     On mine do fall,
And even my infinity doth seem
A drop without them of a mean esteem.

II

The light which on ten thousand faces shines,
  The beams which crown ten thousand vines
  With glory, and delight, appear
     As if they were
Reflected only from them all for me,
That I a greater beauty there might see.
  Thus stars do beautify
  The azure canopy:
     Gilded with rays,
     Ten thousand ways
They serve me, while the sun that on them shines
Adorns those stars and crowns those bleeding vines.

III

Where goodness is within, the soul doth reign.
  Goodness the only Sovereign!
  Goodness delights alone to see
     Felicity.
And while the Image of His goodness lives
In me, whatever He to any gives
  Is my delight and ends
  In me, in all my friends:
     For goodness is
     The spring of bliss,
And ’tis the end of all it gives away
And all it gives it ever doth enjoy.

IV

His goodness! Lord, it is His highest glory!
  The very grace of all His story!
  What other thing can me delight
     But the blest sight
Of His eternal goodness? While His love,
His burning love the bliss of all doth prove,
  While it beyond the ends
  Of Heaven and Earth extends,
     And multiplies
     Above the skies,
His glory, love, and goodness in my sight
Is for my pleasure made more infinite.

V

The soft and swelling grapes that on their vines
  Receive the lively warmth that shines
  Upon them, ripen there for me:
     Or drink they be,
Or meat. The stars salute my pleased sense
With a derived and borrowed influence:
  But better vines do grow,
  Far better wines do flow
     Above, and while
     The Sun doth smile
Upon the lilies there, and all things warm,
Their pleasant odours do my spirit charm.

VI

Their rich affections me like precious seas
  Of nectar and ambrosia please.
  Their eyes are stars, or more divine
     And brighter shine:
Their lips are soft and swelling grapes, their tongues
A quire of blessed and harmonious songs.
  Their bosoms fraught with love
  Are Heavens all Heavens above;
     And being Images of God they are
     The highest joys His goodness did prepare.

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