Select Poetry: Chiefly Sacred, of the Reign of King James the FirstEdward Farr University Press, for J. & J.J. Deighton, 1847 - 360 sider |
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Andre udgaver - Se alle
Almindelige termer og sætninger
angels beauty behold blessed blisse bloud breast breath brest Christ clouds crowne dayes dead death delight dost doth dust dwell earth EMILIA LANYER eternall euery eyes faire fall farre feare fire flames flie floud foes GILES FLETCHER giue glorious glory God's grace griefe hand hath haue heart heaven heavenly hell HENRY PEACHAM holy honour JOHN WEEVER King James leaue light liue live Lord loue mercy minde mortall neuer NICHOLAS BRETON night paine peace pleasure poem POETS poore praise prince PSALM published repent rest rich RICHARD BRATHWAITE RICHARD CORBET RICHARD ZOUCHE runne sacred SAMUEL DANIEL shew shine sight sing sinne SIR WILLIAM LEIGHTON song sonne sorrow soule spirit STANZAS starres sunne sweet teares thee thine things THOMAS SCOT thou art thou hast thought Timnah tongue unto vertue vnto vpon winde wound wrote
Populære passager
Side 12 - Wilt Thou forgive that sin which I have won Others to sin, and made my sin their door ? Wilt Thou forgive that sin which I did shun A year or two, but wallowed in a score ? When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done ; For I have more.
Side 11 - Death, be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so; For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
Side 11 - Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings and desperate men And dost with poison, war and sickness dwell, And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then? One short sleep past, we wake eternally, And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.
Side 13 - On Fame, Wit, Hopes (false mistresses) to Thee. Churches are best for Prayer, that have least light: To see God only, I...
Side 20 - Burn off my rusts, and my deformity, Restore thine image, so much, by thy grace, That thou may'st know me, and I'll turn my face.
Side 9 - Of soules, and to your scattred bodies goe, All whom the flood did, and fire shall o'erthrow, All whom warre, dearth, age, agues, tyrannies, Despaire, law, chance, hath slaine, and you whose eyes, Shall behold God, and never tast deaths woe. But let them sleepe, Lord, and mee mourne a space, For, if above all these, my sinnes abound, 'Tis late to aske abundance of thy grace, When wee are there...
Side 20 - Zenith to us, and our Antipodes, Humbled below us? or that blood which is The seat of all our Soules...
Side 8 - O soul, where thou dost dwell. The picture of Christ crucified, and tell Whether that countenance can thee affright, Tears in his eyes quench the amazing light, Blood fills his frowns, which from his pierc'd head fell.
Side 19 - East. There I should see a Sunne, by rising set, And by that setting endlesse day beget; But that Christ on this Crosse, did rise and fall, Sinne had eternally benighted all.
Side 19 - Could I behold those hands which span the Poles, And tune all spheares at once, peirc'd with those holes ? Could I behold that endlesse height which is Zenith to us, and our Antipodes, Humbled below us? or that blood which is The seat of all our...