Wentworth Miller: Innocence

The essential self is innocent, and when it tastes its own innocence knows that it lives for ever.

John Updike

 

INNOCENCE

 

But that which most I wonder at, which most

I did esteem my bliss, which most I boast,

And ever shall enjoy, is that within

I felt no stain, nor spot of sin.

 

No darkness then did overshade,

But all within was pure and bright,

No guilt did crush, nor fear invade

But all my soul was full of light.

 

 

A joyful sense and purity

Is all I can remember;

The very night to me was bright,

'Twas summer in December.

 

 

A serious meditation did employ

My soul within, which taken up with joy

Did seem no outward thing to note, but fly

All objects that do feed the eye.

 

While it those very objects did

Admire, and prize, and praise, and love,

Which in their glory most are hid,

Which presence only doth remove.

 

Their constant daily presence I

Rejoicing at, did see;

And that which takes them from the eye

Of others, offer'd them to me.

 

 

No inward inclination did I feel

To avarice or pride: my soul did kneel

In admiration all the day. No lust, nor strife,

Polluted then my infant life.

 

 

No fraud nor anger in me mov'd,

No malice, jealousy, or spite;

All that I saw I truly lov'd.

Contentment only and delight

 

 

 

Were in my soul. O Heav'n! what bliss

Did I enjoy and feel!

What powerful delight did this

Inspire! for this I daily kneel.

 

 

Whether it be that nature is so pure,

And custom only vicious; or that sure

God did by miracle the guilt remove,

And make my soul to feel his love

 

 

So early: or that 'twas one day,

Wherein this happiness I found;

Whose strength and brightness so do ray,

 

That still it seems me to surround;

 

What ere it is, it is a light

So endless unto me

That I a world of true delight

Did then and to this day do see.

 

 

That prospect was the gate of Heav'n, that day

The ancient light of Eden did convey

Into my soul: I was an Adam there

A little Adam in a sphere

 

 

Of joys! O there my ravish'd sense

Was entertain'd in Paradise,

And had a sight of innocence

Which was beyond all bound and price.

 

 

An antepast of Heaven sure!

I on the earth did reign;

Within, without me, all was pure;

I must become a child again.

 
 

THOMAS TRAHERNE (1636-1674)