1 Sometime now past in the Autumnal Tide,
2 When Ph{oe}bus wanted but one hour to bed,
3 The trees all richly clad, yet void of pride,
4 Were gilded o're by his rich golden head.
5 Their leaves and fruits seem'd painted but was true
6 Of green, of red, of yellow, mixed hew,
7 Rapt were my senses at this delectable view. 

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8 I wist not what to wish, yet sure thought I,
9 If so much excellence abide below,
10 How excellent is he that dwells on high?
11 Whose power and beauty by his works we know.
12 Sure he is goodness, wisdom, glory, light,
13 That hath this under world so richly dight.
14 More Heaven than Earth was here, no winter and no night. 

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15 Then on a stately Oak I cast mine Eye,
16 Whose ruffling top the Clouds seem'd to aspire.
17 How long since thou wast in thine Infancy?
18 Thy strength and stature, more thy years admire,
19 Hath hundred winters past since thou wast born?
20 Or thousand since thou brakest thy shell of horn?
21 If so, all these as nought, Eternity doth scorn. 

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22 Then higher on the glistering Sun I gaz'd,
23 Whose beams was shaded by the leafy Tree.
24 The more I look'd, the more I grew amaz'd
25 And softly said, what glory's like to thee?
26 Soul of this world, this Universe's Eye,
27 No wonder some made thee a Deity.
28 Had I not better known (alas) the same had I. 

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29 Thou as a Bridegroom from thy Chamber rushes
30 And as a strong man joys to run a race.
31 The morn doth usher thee with smiles and blushes.
32 The Earth reflects her glances in thy face.
33 Birds, insects, Animals with Vegative,
34 Thy heat from death and dullness doth revive
35 And in the darksome womb of fruitful nature dive. 

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36 Thy swift Annual and diurnal Course,
37 Thy daily straight and yearly oblique path,
38 Thy pleasing fervour, and thy scorching force,
39 All mortals here the feeling knowledge hath.
40 Thy presence makes it day, thy absence night,
41 Quaternal seasons caused by thy might.
42 Hail Creature, full of sweetness, beauty, and delight! 

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43 Art thou so full of glory that no Eye
44 Hath strength thy shining Rays once to behold?
45 And is thy splendid Throne erect so high
46 As, to approach it, can no earthly mould?
47 How full of glory then must thy Creator be!
48 Who gave this bright light luster unto thee.
49 Admir'd, ador'd for ever be that Majesty! 

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50 Silent alone where none or saw or heard,
51 In pathless paths I lead my wand'ring feet.
52 My humble Eyes to lofty Skies I rear'd
53 To sing some Song my mazed Muse thought meet.
54 My great Creator I would magnify
55 That nature had thus decked liberally,
56 But Ah and Ah again, my imbecility! 

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57 I heard the merry grasshopper then sing,
58 The black clad Cricket bear a second part.
59 They kept one tune and played on the same string,
60 Seeming to glory in their little Art.
61 Shall creatures abject thus their voices raise
62 And in their kind resound their maker's praise
63 Whilst I, as mute, can warble forth no higher lays? 

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64 When present times look back to Ages past
65 And men in being fancy those are dead,
66 It makes things gone perpetually to last
67 And calls back months and years that long since fled.
68 It makes a man more aged in conceit
69 Than was Methuselah or's grand-sire great,
70 While of their persons and their acts his mind doth treat. 

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71 Sometimes in Eden fair he seems to be,
72 See glorious Adam there made Lord of all,
73 Fancies the Apple dangle on the Tree
74 That turn'd his Sovereign to a naked thrall,
75 Who like a miscreant's driven from that place
76 To get his bread with pain and sweat of face.
77 A penalty impos'd on his backsliding Race. 

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78 Here sits our Grand-dame in retired place
79 And in her lap her bloody Cain new born.
80 The weeping Imp oft looks her in the face,
81 Bewails his unknown hap and fate forlorn.
82 His Mother sighs to think of Paradise
83 And how she lost her bliss to be more wise,
84 Believing him that was and is Father of lies. 

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85 Here Cain and Abel come to sacrifice,
86 Fruits of the Earth and Fatlings each do bring.
87 On Abel's gift the fire descends from Skies,
88 But no such sign on false Cain's offering.
89 With sullen hateful looks he goes his ways,
90 Hath thousand thoughts to end his brother's days,
91 Upon whose blood his future good he hopes to raise. 

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92 There Abel keeps his sheep, no ill he thinks,
93 His brother comes, then acts his fratricide.
94 The Virgin Earth of blood her first draught drinks,
95 But since that time she often hath been cloy'd.
96 The wretch with ghastly face and dreadful mind
97 Thinks