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THE DWELLING PLACE
What happy, secret fountain,
Fair shade,or mountain,
Whose undiscover'd virgin glory
Boasts it this day, though not in story,
Was then thy dwelling? did some cloud
Fix'd to a Tent, descend and shroud
My distrest Lord? or did a star
Beckon'd by thee, though high and far,
In sparkling smiles haste gladly down
To lodge light, and increase her own?
My dear, dear God! I do not know
What lodg'd thee then, nor where, nor how;
But I am sure, thou dost now come
Oft to a narrow, homely room,
Where thou too hast but the least part,
My God, I mean my sinful heart.
Then Jesus turned, and saw them following, and saith unto them, what seek ye?
They said unto him, Rabbi /which is to say, being interpreted, Master/, where
dwellest thou? He saith unto them, Come and see. They came and saw where he dwelt,
and abode with him that day: for it was about the tenth hour.
© Henry Vaughan
© E-magazine LiterNet, 13.01.2000,
№ 1 (2)