Poem : The Retreat by Henry Vaughan

Happy those early days! when IShin’d in my angel-infancy.Before I understood this placeAppoint’d for my second race,Or taught my soul to fancy oughtBut a white, celestial thought,When yet I had not walk’d aboveA mile, or two, from my first love,And looking back (at that short space,)Could see a glimpse of his bright face;When on some gild’d cloud or flowerMy gazing soul would dwell an hour,And in