id,comments,provenance,dictionary,created_at,reviewed_on,work_id,theme,context,updated_at,metaphor,text 10405,"","Searching ""mind"" and ""dross"" in HDIS (Poetry)","",2005-06-13 00:00:00 UTC,,4019,"",First Stanza,2011-03-08 21:23:44 UTC,"Some might ""still think on, till the confining Clay / Fall off, and nothing's left behind /Of drossy Earth, nothing to clog the Mind."""," Happy are they who when alone
Can with themselves converse;
Who to their Thoughts are so familiar grown,
That with Delight in some obscure Recess,
They cou'd with silent Joy think all their Hours away,
And still think on, till the confining Clay
Fall off, and nothing's left behind
Of drossy Earth, nothing to clog the Mind
,
Or hinder its Ascent to those bright Forms above,
Those glorious Beings whose exalted Sense
Transcends the highest Flights of human Wit;
Who with Seraphick Ardor fir'd,
And with a Passion more intense
Than Mortal Beauty e'er inspir'd;
With all th' endearing Extasies of Love,
Will to their blest Society again
The long lost Wand'rers admit,
Where freed from all their former Pain,
And cleans'd from ev'ry Stain,
They bask with Pleasure in eternal Day,
And grow as pure, and as refin'd as they.

"