The Retreat by Alice Meynell — Read

HAPPY those early days when I

Shined in my angel infancy!

Before I understood this place

Appointed for my second race,

Or taught my soul to fancy ought

But a white, celestial thought;

When yet I had not walked above

A mile or two from my first love,

And looking back, at that short space,

Could see a glimpse of his bright face; / When on some gilded cloud or flower / My gazing soul would dwell an hour, / And in those weaker glories spy / Some shadows of eternity; / Before I taught my tongue to wound / My conscience with a sinful sound, / Or had the black art to dispense / A several sin to every sense; / But felt through all this fleshly dress / Bright shoots of everlastingness.

O how I long to travel back, / And tread again that ancient track! / That I might once more reach that plain / Where first I left my glorious train; / From whence the enlightened spirit sees / That shady city of palm-trees.

But ah! my soul with too much stay / Is drunk, and staggers in the way! / Some men a forward motion love, / But I by backward steps would move; / And, when this dust falls to the urn, / In that state I came, return.