When yet I had not walked above
A 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 gilded cloud, or flower,
My gazing soul would dwell an hour,
And in those weaker glories spy
Some shadows of eternity;
Before I taught my tongue to wound
My conscience with a sinful sound,
Or had the black art to dispense
A several sin to every sense,
But felt through all this fleshy dress
Bright shoots of everlastingness.
Oh how I long to travel back,
And tread again that ancient track!
By comparing flesh to a garment, Vaughn reminds that the body is only temporary housing for the soul. 
 If Vaughn’s poem didn’t predate Texas Chainsaw Massacre by 300 years, though, the whole idea would sound pretty Leatherface. 
