Doubt and Certainty

Ah, who can tell the grief and ruthless pain
 That rends the bosom of that hapless wight
Whom doubt assails; the tortur’d wretch in vain
 In crowds and noise would shun the hellish sprite?
Ne comely dames in satin’s richly dight
 Their cheeks with love’s warm blushes overspread
Ne song ne jocund dance can yield delight
 Eft does he stamp and swear and scratch his head
Ne can he sleep anights ne keep his bum abed,

A thousand spectres grim around him flee
 Their dark surmises buzzing in his ear
“See here thy caitiff foe” — nay — now ’tis he
 Now this now that the truth still never near
And then the spectres laugh and mock and jeer
 In vain he bids to bring the dinner in
And generous wine his heavy heart to cheer
 Alas he has no stomach to begin —
Sans sleep — Sans drink — Sans prog no wonder he’s so thin

But when the cherub certainly arrives
 Like Phoebus bursting from a radiant cloud;
Eftsoons away the hellish troop he drives
 And all the terrors of that cursed crowd
And now he sings and leaps and laughs aloud
 To find an antient friend his fancied foe
And of his presence not a little proud
 At first he greets him with a courteous bow
Then turns him round and round and kisses high and low.

And now the tonser turns his fragrant hair
And new fresh water makes his face to shine
And now he toys and prattles with the fair
And with keen stomach maketh haste to dine
And now he quaffs full bowls of luscious wine
And he ’gins to wag and double chin
And talks of sleeping undisturb’d till nine
While honest joy is blazon’d in his eyne
That marketh gentle peace a settled guest within.