The temple: sacred poems, and private ejaculations. To which is added, a biographical sketch of the author. [Followed by] The synagogue [by C. Harvey].1799 |
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Стр. ix
... ( dear mother ) is in thefe Sonnets , to declare my refolution to be , that my poor abilities in Poetry , fhall be all , and ever confecrated to God's glory , and ” - - MY God , where is that ancient heat tow'rds thee , Wherewith whole ...
... ( dear mother ) is in thefe Sonnets , to declare my refolution to be , that my poor abilities in Poetry , fhall be all , and ever confecrated to God's glory , and ” - - MY God , where is that ancient heat tow'rds thee , Wherewith whole ...
Стр. xiv
... dear Friend could write no more , He gave this Seal , and fo gave o'er . When winds and waves rife highest , I am fure , This Anchor keeps my Faith , that me secure . But about this time he would probably have made fhipwreck of his ...
... dear Friend could write no more , He gave this Seal , and fo gave o'er . When winds and waves rife highest , I am fure , This Anchor keeps my Faith , that me secure . But about this time he would probably have made fhipwreck of his ...
Стр. xvi
... dear God ! tho ' I am clean forgot , Let me not love thee , if I love thee not . G. H. About this time of Mr. Herbert's attendance at Court , all his expectations of preferment were fuddenly defeated by the death of his two moft ...
... dear God ! tho ' I am clean forgot , Let me not love thee , if I love thee not . G. H. About this time of Mr. Herbert's attendance at Court , all his expectations of preferment were fuddenly defeated by the death of his two moft ...
Стр. xix
... dear Mother , I al- ways feared fickness more than death , becaufe fickness hath made me unable to perform thofe offices for which I came into the world , and muft yet be kept in it ; but you are freed from that fear , who have already ...
... dear Mother , I al- ways feared fickness more than death , becaufe fickness hath made me unable to perform thofe offices for which I came into the world , and muft yet be kept in it ; but you are freed from that fear , who have already ...
Стр. xx
... dear Madam , remember the holy martyrs of God , how they have been burnt by thousands , and have endured fuch other tortures , as the very mention of them might beget amazement ; but their fiery trials have had an end : And yours ...
... dear Madam , remember the holy martyrs of God , how they have been burnt by thousands , and have endured fuch other tortures , as the very mention of them might beget amazement ; but their fiery trials have had an end : And yours ...
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againſt alfo becauſe beft beſt bleffed blood breaſt Chrift Church cloſe dear death defire delight doth dreft duft earth ev'n ev'ry eyes facred faid fame fear feek ferve fhall fhew thyself fhould fide figh filk fince fing firſt fleſh fome forrow foul ftands ftars ftill ftore fuch fure fweet give glaſs glory God's grace grief hand hath heart heav'n HERBERT himſelf holy houfe houſe itſelf King laſt leaſt lefs live loft Lord luft Mafter meaſure mirth moft moſt mufic muft muſt myſelf pleaſure pofy poor praife praiſe prefent raiſe reft rife ſay ſhall ſky ſphere ſpread ſtand ſtars ſtate ſtay ſtill ſtone ſweet tears thee thefe themſelves theſe thine things thofe thoſe thou art thou didst thou doft thou haft thou wilt thoughts thy love treaſure unto uſe verfe whofe whoſe wind
Популярные отрывки
Стр. 97 - LIFE. I MADE a posy, while the day ran by : Here will I smell my remnant out, and tie My life within this band.
Стр. 179 - I aspire To a full consent. Not a word or look I affect to own, But by book, And thy book alone. Though I fail, I weep : Though I halt in pace, Yet I creep To the throne of grace.
Стр. xix - ... and competent maintenance. - So that now if they do not well, the fault cannot be charged on you, whose example and care of them will justify you both to the world and your own conscience...
Стр. 90 - 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.
Стр. 59 - O let me, when thy roof my soul hath hid, O let me roost and nestle there : Then of a sinner thou art rid, And I of hope and fear. Yet take thy way ; for sure thy way is best : Stretch or contract me thy poor debtor : This is but tuning of my breast, To make the music better.
Стр. 13 - THOU, whose sweet youth and early hopes enhance Thy rate and price, and mark thee for a treasure, Hearken unto a Verser, who may chance Rhyme thee to good, and make a bait of pleasure : A verse may find him, who a Sermon flies, And turn delight into a Sacrifice.
Стр. 132 - Not, that he may not here Taste of the cheer : But as birds drink, and straight lift up their head ; So must he sip, and think Of better drink He may attain to, after he is dead.
Стр. 144 - Just as I went, None goes that way And lives. If that be all, said I, After so foul a journey death is fair, And but a chair.
Стр. 78 - Christ hath took in this piece of ground, And made a garden there for those Who want herbs for their wound.
Стр. 126 - I met a reverend good old man : Whom when for Peace I did demand, he thus began ; There was a Prince of old At Salem dwelt, who lived with good increase Of flock and fold.