Saturday, July 14, 2012

The Misery Bell

By pain you are miserable you say?
How can that be when you are so, laid out,
Spent by the day in a pool of food, water,
Wine, merry entertainers of the day
That keep you from distant ailments that shout
Out at passerby for a cup of sure
Love? Can you honestly expect this way
To accomplish anything? What of you
Hopes to be a saint in life? Have you not
Sense to see within all of this strife true
Love has been hindered? O, would that you ought
To examine yourself profoundly, shrew
Over yourself with merry wit akin
To those who do proport all vice and sin;
Then would you appreciate your lack wit
And upon wisdom, a throne, would yous it!
For do not pain away at me to fix
What is clearly within your reach; for cause
Enough have I to fix the cries of poor
Men who run naked in the streets, but one
Who's neck pains him from lack of sleep, caused no
Doubt by his own tardiness to return
Home and go to bed, is not of any
Importance to me! I shall go now, free
Yourself from your vice if you can; then true
Wisdom shall return to you as a wick
By which you may light your candle, your flaws
Shall then be visibly seen. So abhor
Your desire for me to fix your undone
Body, fix it yourself if you may, grow
As the plant towards the sun, and do not burn
In the midday from lack of water; see
That there is water nearby and take it!
Else you shall be left without any wit
As water evaporates from the ground,
And so you shall die without a one sound.
For misery is naught but a child's moan
That he has not been fed when he likes, gives
The talking to God since he must atone,
Brands all men as sinners so he may live
Out his own way of life. Yet if he seeks
To serve himself he will turn back to God,
Leave fear behind, and through the gifts he's got
Will compose a song by which he may laud
The God he seeks to serve, as he well ought.

                   The Misery Bell, (c) Luke Bennette, July 2012

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