Classic Poem

ODE V

1

Where, where resides content?
The joy, which mortalls faigne?
Tis neither, in Extent
Of Power, nor full-mouth'd gaine;
Nor in the Emptie Shade
Of honour, nor in Trade;
Nor in vast riot, nor in Swelling boules;
Nor what wee pleasure call
Diversified. The wall
Of Pallaces are emptie as the holes
Of Scorned Peasants. Wee may looke
The universe, in everie nooke,
And Cherish giddie Fancie, that wee shall
Find, what is not at all;

2

For wee may apprehend
Full joy, in the pursuit
Of our desires, which End
Before they come to fruit.
Soe doe I often borrow
My pleasures, from the morrow;
It comes; and yet my Joy has noe more Life.
For what can Time produce
But moveing? Never thus
Will I be Slave, to Transitorie Strife.
I will propose, unto my Soule
A Pleasure, beyond Times controule;
A Path, where Innocence shall teach my Muse
The Raptures she would Chuse;

3

And there find out, what Mortalls, with their Sweat
Could never gett;
And in the Sober heights of vertue, Clime
To goodlie ravishment;
Untouch't by Envie, un-impaired by Time;
For to be free, with a heart Innocent,
Is onlie true Content.