Poems (Cromwell)/Definition
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DEFINITION
As clouds lie in the west,
My fairest pleasures rest
In you, their element
Of being. Loath to die,
They ornament your sky,
Amassed, magnificent.
My fairest pleasures rest
In you, their element
Of being. Loath to die,
They ornament your sky,
Amassed, magnificent.
They shun the realms beyond.
Are you not their fond,
Fair dwelling by consent
Of time? Why should they go
And vanish quite, as though
They were not all-content?
Are you not their fond,
Fair dwelling by consent
Of time? Why should they go
And vanish quite, as though
They were not all-content?
My pleasures are not love,
Else like the clouds above
They swiftly would relent.
They are mild beauty; dim
Resistless thought; and whim,
And idle blandishment.
Else like the clouds above
They swiftly would relent.
They are mild beauty; dim
Resistless thought; and whim,
And idle blandishment.
Love is a wilful power,
More like the wind or shower
In which the cloud is spent.
My pleasures only screen
The space of light serene
In your deep firmament.
More like the wind or shower
In which the cloud is spent.
My pleasures only screen
The space of light serene
In your deep firmament.