Verse > Anthologies > William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. > The Book of Restoration Verse
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William Stanley Braithwaite, ed.  The Book of Restoration Verse.  1910.
 
Come, Come! What Do I Here?
By Henry Vaughan (1621–1695)
 
COME, come! What do I here?
      Since he is gone
Each day is grown a dozen year
      And each hour, one;
        Come, come!        5
        Cut off the sum:
      By these soil’d tears!
        Which only Thou
        Know’st to be true,
      Days are my fears.        10
 
There’s not a wind can stir,
      Or beam pass by,
By straight I think, though far,
      Thy hand is nigh.
        Come, come!        15
        Strike these lips dumb:
      This restless breath,
        That soils Thy name,
        Will ne’er be tame
      Until in death.        20
 
Perhaps some think a tomb
      No house of store,
But a dark and seal’d up womb,
      Which ne’er breeds more:
        Come, come!        25
        Such thoughts benumb:
      But I would be
        With Him I weep
        Abed, and sleep,
      To wake in Thee.        30
 
 
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