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. 38
... dost thou part from me ? Was fuch a grief as cannot be . Shall I then fing , skipping thy doleful ftory , And fide with thy triumphant glory ? Shall thy ftrokes be my ftroking ? thorns my flower ? Thy rod my pofy ?, crofs , my bower ...
... dost thou part from me ? Was fuch a grief as cannot be . Shall I then fing , skipping thy doleful ftory , And fide with thy triumphant glory ? Shall thy ftrokes be my ftroking ? thorns my flower ? Thy rod my pofy ?, crofs , my bower ...
Стр. 145
... thou dost refuse . Not but I am I must fay ftill ) . Much more oblig'd to do thy will , Than thou to grant mine : but because Thy promise now hath ev'n fet thee thy laws : Then we are shooters both , and thou doft deign To enter combat ...
... thou dost refuse . Not but I am I must fay ftill ) . Much more oblig'd to do thy will , Than thou to grant mine : but because Thy promise now hath ev'n fet thee thy laws : Then we are shooters both , and thou doft deign To enter combat ...
Стр. 156
... thou dost reign , And rule on high , While I remain In bitter grief : Yet am I stil'd Thy child . Lord , didft thou leave thy throne , Not to relieve ? How can it be That thou art grown Thus hard to me ? Were fin alive , good cause ...
... thou dost reign , And rule on high , While I remain In bitter grief : Yet am I stil'd Thy child . Lord , didft thou leave thy throne , Not to relieve ? How can it be That thou art grown Thus hard to me ? Were fin alive , good cause ...
Стр. 173
... Thy anger comes , and I decline : What froft to that ? What pole is not the zone Where all things burn , When thou dost turn , And the leaft frown of thine is fhown ? And now in age I bud again , After fo many deaths I live and write ...
... Thy anger comes , and I decline : What froft to that ? What pole is not the zone Where all things burn , When thou dost turn , And the leaft frown of thine is fhown ? And now in age I bud again , After fo many deaths I live and write ...
Стр. 177
George Herbert. Self - Condemnation . THOU who condemneft Jewish hate For chufing Barabbas , a murderer , " Before the ... thou dost love , yet strike ; Caft down , yet help afford ; Sure I will do the like . I will complain , yet praife ...
George Herbert. Self - Condemnation . THOU who condemneft Jewish hate For chufing Barabbas , a murderer , " Before the ... thou dost love , yet strike ; Caft down , yet help afford ; Sure I will do the like . I will complain , yet praife ...
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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.