Lives of Sacred PoetsJ.W. Parker, 1834 - 363 sidor |
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Sida 24
... passes , And Thy grace Thy might surpasses , Swift to mercy , slow to wrath , Bound nor end Thy goodness hath . Thy kind look no more deny me , But with eyes of mercy eye me ; O give me , Thy slave , at length , Easing aid , or bearing ...
... passes , And Thy grace Thy might surpasses , Swift to mercy , slow to wrath , Bound nor end Thy goodness hath . Thy kind look no more deny me , But with eyes of mercy eye me ; O give me , Thy slave , at length , Easing aid , or bearing ...
Sida 26
... pass over , without notice , many who left their fame upon a harp - string , and from whose antique leaves might be gathered thoughts of the serenest piety and peace . Of some of these I shall have an opportunity of speaking in the ...
... pass over , without notice , many who left their fame upon a harp - string , and from whose antique leaves might be gathered thoughts of the serenest piety and peace . Of some of these I shall have an opportunity of speaking in the ...
Sida 39
... pass so much is one either night or day without some divine song : and as sedulous Prudentius , so prudent Sedulius was famous in this poetical divinity , the coëtan * of Bernard , who sang the history of Christ with as much devotion in ...
... pass so much is one either night or day without some divine song : and as sedulous Prudentius , so prudent Sedulius was famous in this poetical divinity , the coëtan * of Bernard , who sang the history of Christ with as much devotion in ...
Sida 75
... pass'd the City , and the Court , My Prince look'd out end deign'd to view the sport . Far , however , from lamenting his ill - success , Wither rejoiced that God , " by dashing his hopes , " had called him to himself again . Considered ...
... pass'd the City , and the Court , My Prince look'd out end deign'd to view the sport . Far , however , from lamenting his ill - success , Wither rejoiced that God , " by dashing his hopes , " had called him to himself again . Considered ...
Sida 92
... pass the day As he wont . Fye , Roget , fye , Raise thy head , and merrily Tune us somewhat to thy reed . See our flocks do freely feed . Here we may together sit , And for music very fit Is this place ; from yonder wood Comes an echo ...
... pass the day As he wont . Fye , Roget , fye , Raise thy head , and merrily Tune us somewhat to thy reed . See our flocks do freely feed . Here we may together sit , And for music very fit Is this place ; from yonder wood Comes an echo ...
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admiration Anthony Wood appear Aubrey beautiful Ben Jonson Bishop Cambridge Christian Church College comfort Crashaw Cromwell Danvers Dean Prior death Denham Divine doth Earl earth edition Emblems English esteemed eyes Faerie Queen fancy father favour fear Fletcher frequently George Wither Gilbert Pickering Giles Fletcher grace hand hath heart heaven Henry Herbert History Holy honour hope Hymns James James Duport Jeremy Taylor John Danvers Jonson King labours learning letter lived London Lord Lord Bacon Marshalsea Master Meditations mercy Milton mind Muse never night Oxford Parliament Peterhouse piety poem poet poet's poetical poetry praise prayers printed Psalms published Quarles reader Rector sacred SACRED POETS says Shepherd's Sir John song sorrow soul specimens Spenser stanza thee things thou thought tion translation University of Cambridge unto verses virtues volume Walton wife Wood words writer
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Sida 229 - 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. From rest and sleep, which but thy...
Sida 225 - SWEET Day, so cool, so calm, so bright, The bridal of the earth and sky, The dew shall weep thy fall to-night ; For thou must die. Sweet Rose, whose hue angry and brave Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave, And thou must die. Sweet Spring, full of sweet days and roses, A box where sweets compacted lie, My Music shows ye have your closes, And all must die. Only a...
Sida 196 - However, I need not their help to reprove the vanity of those many love-poems, that are daily writ, and consecrated to Venus ; nor to bewail that so few are writ, that look towards God and Heaven. For my own part, my meaning — dear Mother — is, in these Sonnets, to declare my resolution to be, that my poor abilities in Poetry, shall be all and ever consecrated to God's glory: and I beg you to receive this as one testimony.
Sida 245 - Before I understood this place Appointed for my second race, Or taught my soul to fancy ought But a white, celestial thought, 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...
Sida 176 - When the passing-bell doth toll, And the furies in a shoal Come to fright a parting soul, Sweet Spirit, comfort me! When the tapers now burn blue, And the comforters are few, And that number more than true, Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
Sida 307 - Therefore judge nothing before the time, until the Lord come, who both will bring to light the hidden things of darkness, and will make manifest the counsels of the hearts : and then shall every man have praise of God.
Sida 307 - But why dost thou judge thy brother? or why dost thou set at nought thy brother? for we shall all stand before the judgment seat of Christ.
Sida 245 - But when the hand that locked her up gives room, She'll shine through all the sphere. O Father of eternal life, and all Created glories under Thee, Resume thy spirit from this world of thrall Into true liberty. Either disperse these mists, which blot and fill My perspective still as they pass ; Or else remove me hence unto that hill, Where I shall need no glass.
Sida 68 - Some things that may sweeten gladness, In the very gall of sadness. The dull loneness, the black shade, That these hanging vaults have made; The strange music of the waves, Beating on these hollow caves; This black den which rocks emboss, Overgrown with eldest moss: The rude portals that give light More to terror than delight; This my chamber of neglect, Walled about with disrespect. From all these, and this dull air, A fit object for despair, She hath taught me by her might To draw comfort and delight.
Sida 175 - In the hour of my distress, When temptations me oppress, And when I my sins confess, Sweet Spirit, comfort me! When I lie within my bed, Sick in heart, and sick in head, And with doubts discomforted, Sweet Spirit, comfort me!