Poetical Sketches
My son a vine, which I commit unto
Thy care : prune all extravagant shoots, and guide
Th' ambitious tendrils in the paths of wisdom ; 213
Water him with thy advice ; and Heav'n
Rain fresh'ning dew upon his branches. And,
Edward, my dear son ! learn to think lowly of
Thyself, as we may all each prefer other — 217
Tis the best policy, and 'tis our duty. [Exeunt King Edward.]
Prince. And may our duty, Chandos, be our pleasure.
Now we are alone. Sir John, I will unburden,
And breathe my hopes into the burning air, 221
Where thousand deaths are posting up and down,
Commission'd to this fatal field of Cressy.
Methinks I see them arm my gallant soldiers,
And gird the sword upon each thigh, and fit 225
Each shining helm, and string each stubborn bow,
And dance to the neighing of our steeds.
Methinks the shout begins, the battle burns.
Methinks I see them perch on English crests, 229
And roar the wild flame of fierce war upon
The thronged enemy. In truth I am too full ;
It is my sin to love the noise of war.
Chandos, thou seest my weakness ; strong nature 233
Will bend or break us : my blood, like a springtide,
Does rise so high to overflow all bounds
Of moderation ; while Reason, in her
Frail bark, can see no shore or bound for vast 237
Ambition. Come, take the helm, my Chandos,
That my full-blown sails overset me not
In the wild tempest : condemn my 'ventrous youth,
That plays with danger as the inndcent child 241
Unthinking plays upon the viper's den :
am a coward in my reason, Chandos.
Chand You are a man, my prince, and a brave man,
If I can judge of actions ; but your heat 245
Is the effect of youth, and want of use :
Use makes the armed field and noisy war
Pass over as a summer cloud, unregarded,
Or but expected as a thing of course. 249
Age is contemplative ; each rolling year
Brings forth fruit to the mind's treasure-house:
While vacant youth doth crave and seek about
Within itself, and findeth discontent, 253
Then, tir'd of thought, impatient takes the wing,
Seizes the fruits of time, attacks experience.
Roams round vast Nature's forest, where no bounds
Are set, the swiftest may have room, the strongest 257
Find prey ; till tir'd at length, sated and tired
With the changing sameness, old variety,
We sit us down, and view our former joys
Page:The poetical works of William Blake; a new and verbatim text from the manuscript engraved and letterpress originals (1905).djvu/76
