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Title: Affliction
Author: Henry Vaughan [ More Titles by Vaughan]
O come, and welcome! come, refine! For Moors, if wash'd by Thee, will shine. Man blossoms at Thy touch; and he, When Thou draw'st blood is Thy rose-tree. Crosses make straight his crooked ways, And clouds but cool his dog-star days; Diseases too, when by Thee blest, Are both restoratives and rest. Flow'rs that in sunshines riot still, Die scorch'd and sapless; though storms kill, The fall is fair, e'en to desire, Where in their sweetness all expire. O come, pour on! what calms can be So fair as storms, that appease Thee?
[The end] Henry Vaughan's poem: Affliction ________________________________________________
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