I see them walking in an air of glory Whose light doth trample on my days, My days, which are at best but dull and hoary, Mere glimmering and decays. - Henry Vaughan

Happy those early days, when I Shined in my angel-infancy! Before I understood this place Appointed for my second race.

Dear, harmless age! the short, swift span Where weeping Virtue parts with man; Where love without lust dwells, and bends What way we please without self-ends. <p> An age of mysteries! which he Must live that would God's face see Which angels guard, and with it play, Angels! which foul men drive away.

There is in God — some say — A deep, but dazzling darkness; as men here Say it is late and dusky, because they See not all clear. O for that Night! where I in Him Might live invisible and dim!