Phillis Wheatley (Филлис Уитли)
On Virtue
O thou bright jewel in my aim I strive To comprehend thee. Thine own words declare Wisdom is higher than a fool can reach. I cease to wonder, and no more attempt Thine height t’explore, or fathom thy profound. But, O my soul, sink not into despair, Virtue is near thee, and with gentle hand Would now embrace thee, hovers o’er thine head. Fain would the heaven-born soul with her converse, Then seek, then court her for her promised bliss. Auspicious queen, thine heavenly pinions spread, And lead celestial Chastity along; Lo! now her sacred retinue descends, Arrayed in glory from the orbs above. Attend me, Virtue, thro’ my youthful years! O leave me not to the false joys of time! But guide my steps to endless life and bliss. Greatness, or Goodness, say what I shall call thee, To give an higher appellation still, Teach me a better strain, a nobler lay, O Thou, enthroned with Cherubs in the realms of day!
Phillis Wheatley’s other poems:
- To the King’s Most Excellent Majesty. 1768
- Thoughts on the Works of Providence
- To a Gentleman on his Voyage to Great-Britain for the Recovery of his Health
- To a Lady on the Death of Her Husband
- On the Death of the Rev. Dr. Sewell, 1769
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