Poem: Desert

A timeless devotion to God for His creation, the desert, by Henry Vaughan.



I have deserved a thick Egyptian damp,
       Dark as my deeds,
Should mist within me, and put out that lamp
       Thy spirit feeds;
A darting conscience full of stabs and fears,
       No shade but yew,
Sullen and sad eclipses, cloudy spheres,
       These are my due.
But He that with His blood, a price too dear,
       My scores did pay,
Bid me, by virtue from Him, challenge here
       The brightest day;
Sweet, downy thoughts, soft lily-shades, calm streams,
       Joys full and true,
Fresh spicy mornings and eternal beams,
       These are His due.