When I by my philosophy am vex'd
Emotion boils, and troublesome thoughts
My embattl'd and feeble mind perplex,
Making my vain and foolish notions nought--
It is then and only then that I turn
Rememb'ring thy sweetest joys...my pain'd heart
Would fain to thee return; and yet I burn
With passion and desire, being torn apart
By the flames of that raging inner fire--
Itself a promise of torments to come--
All true stubstance brought down low to the mire,
And the joy of thy salvation made numb:
Of me, is all but noise and confusion?
Vainglory, lust, and my own delusion?