The Temple: Sacred Poems and Private Ejaculations |
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Page vi
... poor foul , let it be made public ; if not , let him burn it , for I and it are less than the least of God's mercies . ' Thus meanly did this humble man think of this excellent book , which now bears the name of THE TEMPLE , or Sacred ...
... poor foul , let it be made public ; if not , let him burn it , for I and it are less than the least of God's mercies . ' Thus meanly did this humble man think of this excellent book , which now bears the name of THE TEMPLE , or Sacred ...
Page xiv
... Poor 293 271 The Paffion , or Good The Church - ftile . • The Church - walls 272 Friday • 311 The Church - Warden 295 The Prieft 299 The Church - yard 270 The Pulpit · 283 The Circumcifion , or New- The Reading - pew 278 Year's Day 308 ...
... Poor 293 271 The Paffion , or Good The Church - ftile . • The Church - walls 272 Friday • 311 The Church - Warden 295 The Prieft 299 The Church - yard 270 The Pulpit · 283 The Circumcifion , or New- The Reading - pew 278 Year's Day 308 ...
Page xviii
... poor lambs by Pharifaic hate . For discipline with doctrine so to jar , Was juft like bringing justice to the bar . Was it the will , or judgment , or commands , Of the great pilot for to pass the sands ; Well may we hope , that our ...
... poor lambs by Pharifaic hate . For discipline with doctrine so to jar , Was juft like bringing justice to the bar . Was it the will , or judgment , or commands , Of the great pilot for to pass the sands ; Well may we hope , that our ...
Page xix
... poor pebbles we return . Now Seine is swallowing Tiber ; if the Thames , By letting in them both pollute her streams ; Or if the feers fhall connive or wink , Beware the thunderbolt ; Migremus hinc . O let me die , and not furvive to ...
... poor pebbles we return . Now Seine is swallowing Tiber ; if the Thames , By letting in them both pollute her streams ; Or if the feers fhall connive or wink , Beware the thunderbolt ; Migremus hinc . O let me die , and not furvive to ...
Page 3
... poor clod of earth the spacious sky . Take not His name , who made thy mouth , in vain : It gets thee nothing , and hath no excuse . Luft and wine plead a pleasure , avarice gain : But the cheap fwearer through his open fluice Lets his ...
... poor clod of earth the spacious sky . Take not His name , who made thy mouth , in vain : It gets thee nothing , and hath no excuse . Luft and wine plead a pleasure , avarice gain : But the cheap fwearer through his open fluice Lets his ...
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Common terms and phrases
aftra againſt alſo anſwer atque Becauſe beſt Biſhop bleffed blood breaſt Church cloſe croſs dear death decus defire didft doth dreft duft duſt e'en earth eyes fame fear feek fhall fhow thyself fide figh fince fing firſt fleſh fome forrow foul ftill fuch fure fweet glory grace grief hæc hand hath heart heaven himſelf holy houſe itſelf laſt leaſt lefs leſs live loft Lord Maſter meaſure mihi moft moſt mufic Muft muſt myſelf paſs pleaſe pleaſure pofy poor preſent quæ raiſe reft reſt reſtore ſay ſee ſeek ſenſe ſerve ſhall ſhe ſhine ſhould ſhow ſky ſpeak ſphere ſpirit ſpread ſpring ſtand ſtars ſtate ſtay ſtill ſtore ſtory ſtraight ſtrange ſtrength ſweet taſte tears thee theſe thine things thoſe thou art thou doft thy praiſe tibi treaſure unto uſe verſe whofe whoſe wilt wind wiſh
Popular passages
Page 159 - I no bays to crown it, No flowers, no garlands gay? all blasted, All wasted? Not so, my heart; but there is fruit, And thou hast hands. Recover all thy sigh-blown age On double pleasures; leave thy cold dispute...
Page 15 - When once thy foot enters the Church, be bare. God is more there, than thou : for thou art there Only by his permission. Then beware, And make thyself all reverence and fear. Kneeling ne'er spoil'd silk stocking : quit thy state. All equal are within the Church's gate. Resort to sermons, but to prayers most : Praying's the end of preaching. O be drest ; Stay not for th...
Page 85 - 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.
Page 163 - COME, my way, my truth, my life ! Such a way as gives us breath ; Such a truth as ends all strife ; Such a life as killeth death. Come, my light, my feast, my strength ! Such a light as shows a feast ; Such a feast as mends in length ; Such a strength as makes his guest. Come, my joy, my love, my heart ! Such a joy as none can move ; Such a love as none can part ; Such a heart...
Page 50 - WHO says that fictions only and false hair Become a verse ? Is there in truth no beauty ? Is all good structure in a winding stair? . May no lines pass, except they do their duty Not to a true, but painted chair...
Page 160 - Which petty thoughts have made, and made to thee Good cable, to enforce and draw And be thy law, While thou didst wink and wouldst not see. Away; take heed: I will abroad. Call in thy death's head there: tie up thy fears. He that forbears To suit and serve his need, Deserves his load.
Page 85 - ... 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 sweet and virtuous soul, Like seasoned timber, never gives ; But though the whole world turn to coal, Then chiefly lives.
Page 92 - LIFE. I MADE a posy, while the day ran by : Here will I smell my remnant out, and tie My life within this band.
Page 75 - HE that is weary, let him sit. My soul would stir And trade in courtesies and wit, Quitting the fur, To cold complexions needing it. Man is no star, but a quick coal Of mortal fire : Who blows it not, nor doth control A faint desire, Lets his own ashes choke his soul.
Page 110 - Sir, said she, Tell me, I pray, whose hands are those ? But thou shalt answer, Lord, for me. Then Money came, and chinking still, What tune is this, poor man ? said he : I heard in Music you had skill...