Explore "On Virtue" by Phillis Wheatley on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
O Thou bright jewel in my aim I strive
To comprehend thee. Thine own words declare
Wisdom is higher than a fool can reach.
I cease to wonder, and no more attempt
Thine height t' explore, or fathom thy profound.
But, O my soul, sink not into despair, / Virtue is near thee, and with gentle hand
Would now embrace thee, hovers o'er thine head.
Fain would the heav'n-born soul with her converse, / Then seek, then court her for her promis'd bliss.
Auspicious queen, thine heav'nly pinions spread, / And lead celestial Chastity along; / Lo! now her sacred retinue descends, / Array'd in glory from the orbs above.
Attend me, Virtue, thro' my youthful years!
O leave me not to the false joys of time!
But guide my steps to endless life and bliss.
Greatness, or Goodness, say what I shall call thee, / To give me an higher appellation still, / Teach me a better strain, a nobler lay, / O thou, enthron'd with Cherubs in the realms of day!