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The Shower I

AS so ;  I saw thy birth.   That drowsy lake    From her faint bosom breath'd thee, the disease    Of her sick waters and infectious ease.                    But now at even,                    Too gross for heaven,

Thou fall'st in tears, and weep'st for thy mistake.2.

Ah !  it is so with me : oft have I press'd    Heaven with a lazy breath ; but fruitless this    Pierc'd not ; love only can with quick access                    Unlock the way,                    When all else stray,

The smoke and exhalations of the breast.3.

Yet, if as thou dost melt, and with thy train    Of drops make soft the Earth, my eyes could weep    O'er my hard heart, that's bound up and asleep ;                    Perhaps at last,                    Some such showers past,

My God would give a sunshine after rain.

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Henry Vaughan

Henry Vaughan (17 April 1621 – 23 April 1695) was a Welsh metaphysical poet, author, translator and physician, writing in English. He is chiefly…
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