The Temple: Sacred Poems and Private Ejaculations/The Pilgrimage
For works with similar titles, see Pilgrimage.
§ The Pilgrimage.
I Travell'd on, seeing the hill, where layMy expectation.A long it was and weary way.The gloomy cave of DesperationI left on th' one, and on the other sideThe rock of Pride.
And so I came to phansies medow strow'dWith many a flower:Fain would I here have made abode,But I was quicken'd by my houre.So to cares cops I came, and there got throughWith much ado.
That led me to the wilde of passion, whichSome call the wold;A wasted place, but sometimes rich.Here I was robb'd of all my gold,Save one good Angel, which a friend had ti'dClose to my side.
At length I got unto the gladsome hill,Where lay my hope,Where lay my heart; and climbing still,When I had gain'd the brow and top,A lake of brackish waters on the groundWas all I found.
With that abash'd and struck with many a stingOf swarming fears,I fell, and cry'd, Alas my King!Can both the way and end be tears?Yet taking heart, I rose, and then perceiv'dI was deceiv'd.
My hill was further: so I flung away,Yet heard a crieJust as I went, None goes that wayAnd lives: If that be all, said I,After so foul a journey death is fair,And but a chair.