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 |
De dentro do livro
Resultados 1-3 de 3
Página 12
... Sacrifice Saints , vide Angels Holy Scripture The Search Schifms , v . C. Rents The Thanksgiving ! 73 Time 115 Trinity - Sunday " 43 Vanity 52 Virtue 39 Ungratefulness 184 Unkindness 29 The Water - courfe Whitfunday The World W 62 A ...
... Sacrifice Saints , vide Angels Holy Scripture The Search Schifms , v . C. Rents The Thanksgiving ! 73 Time 115 Trinity - Sunday " 43 Vanity 52 Virtue 39 Ungratefulness 184 Unkindness 29 The Water - courfe Whitfunday The World W 62 A ...
Página 28
... virtue . Life's poor span Make not an ell , by trifling in thy wo . If thou do ill , the joy fades , not the pains : If well , the pain doth fade , the joy remains . i OF The Sacrifice . H all ye , who 28 THE CHURCH PORCH .
... virtue . Life's poor span Make not an ell , by trifling in thy wo . If thou do ill , the joy fades , not the pains : If well , the pain doth fade , the joy remains . i OF The Sacrifice . H all ye , who 28 THE CHURCH PORCH .
Página 29
... Sacrifice . Was ever grief , & c . Therefore my foul melts , and my heart's dear treasure Drops blood ( the only beads ) my words to measure . O let this Cup pass , if it be thy pleasure . Was ever grief , & c . Thefe drops being temper ...
... Sacrifice . Was ever grief , & c . Therefore my foul melts , and my heart's dear treasure Drops blood ( the only beads ) my words to measure . O let this Cup pass , if it be thy pleasure . Was ever grief , & c . Thefe drops being temper ...
Termos e frases comuns
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
Passagens mais conhecidas
Página 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.
Página 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.
Página 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...
Página 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.
Página 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.
Página 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.
Página 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.
Página 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.
Página 78 - Christ hath took in this piece of ground, And made a garden there for those Who want herbs for their wound.
Página 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.