O Book life's guide! how shall we part,
And thou so long seized of my heart?
Take this last kiss; and let me weep,
True thanks to thee before I sleep.
Thou wert the first put in my hand,
When yet I could not understand,
And daily didst my young eyes lead
To letters, till I learned to read;
But as rash youths, when once grown strong,
Fly from their nurses to the throng,
Where they new consorts choose, and stick
To those, till either hurt or sick:
So with that first light gain'd from thee,
Ran I in chase of vanity.
Cried dross fbr gold, and never thought
My first cheap book had all I sought.
Long reign'd this vogue; and thou, cast by,
With meek dumb looks didst woo mine eye,
And oft left open, would'st convey
A sudden and most searching ray
Into my soul, with whose quick touch,
Refusing still, I struggled much.
By this mild act of love, at length
hou overcam'st my sinful strength;
And having brought me home, didst there
Show me that pearl I sought elsewhere.
Gladness, and peace, and hope, and love,
The secret favors of the Dove;
Her quickening kindness, smiles, and kisses,
Exalted pleasures, crowning blisses,
Fruition, union, glory, life,
Thou didst lead to, and still all strife.
Living, thou wert my soul's sure ease,
And dying mak'st me go in peace:
Thy next effects no tongue can tell -
Farewell, O book of God, farewell!
From Silex Scintiilans, or Sacred Poems, by Henry Vaughan.