The temple, sacred poems and private ejaculations. [With] The synagogue1703 |
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... Honour .. The Twelfth Edition Correded , with the Addition of an Alphabetical Table . LONDON , Printed by F. Barber , for JEFFERY WALE , at the Angel in St. Paul's Church - Yard . 1703 . 147. g . 618 . MEMORIAL To the Honourable GEORGE ...
... Honour .. The Twelfth Edition Correded , with the Addition of an Alphabetical Table . LONDON , Printed by F. Barber , for JEFFERY WALE , at the Angel in St. Paul's Church - Yard . 1703 . 147. g . 618 . MEMORIAL To the Honourable GEORGE ...
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... Honour , The Twelfth Edition Corrected , with the Addition of an Alphabetical Table . LONDON , Printed by . Barber , for JEFFERY WALE , at the Angel in St. Paul's Church - Yard . 1703 . 147. 9 . 618 . · 1 IA MEMORIAL To the Honourable ...
... Honour , The Twelfth Edition Corrected , with the Addition of an Alphabetical Table . LONDON , Printed by . Barber , for JEFFERY WALE , at the Angel in St. Paul's Church - Yard . 1703 . 147. 9 . 618 . · 1 IA MEMORIAL To the Honourable ...
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... honour , and thy friend his due . Never was fcraper brave man . Get to live : Then live , and ufe it : Elfe it is not true That thou haft gotten . Surely ufe alone Makes money not a contemptible stone . Never exceed thy income . Youth ...
... honour , and thy friend his due . Never was fcraper brave man . Get to live : Then live , and ufe it : Elfe it is not true That thou haft gotten . Surely ufe alone Makes money not a contemptible stone . Never exceed thy income . Youth ...
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... honour was compos'd Of thicker ftuff , which would endure a shake . Wifdom picks friends ; civility plays the reft . A toy fhun'd cleanly paffeth with the beft . Laugh not too much : the witty man laughs leaft : For wit is news only to ...
... honour was compos'd Of thicker ftuff , which would endure a shake . Wifdom picks friends ; civility plays the reft . A toy fhun'd cleanly paffeth with the beft . Laugh not too much : the witty man laughs leaft : For wit is news only to ...
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George Herbert. When basenefs is exalted , do not bate The place its honour for the perfon's fake ... The Thrine is that which thou doft venerate ; And not the beaft , that bears it on his back . I care not though the cloth of State ...
George Herbert. When basenefs is exalted , do not bate The place its honour for the perfon's fake ... The Thrine is that which thou doft venerate ; And not the beaft , that bears it on his back . I care not though the cloth of State ...
Termos e frases comuns
Affliction alfo Anfwer Beafts becauſe beft Bemerton bleffed Blood Chrift Chriftian Church conftant conftantly dear Death defire Divine doth dreft Duft Earl of Danby Earth elfe ev'n ev'ry Eyes facred fafely faft faid Faith fame fear feek felves ferve fhall fhew fhine fhould fince fing firft fome foul Foys Friend ftand ftill fuch fure fweet George Herbert Glory God's Grace grief happy hath Heart Heaven Highnam himſelf holy Honour Houfe inftructed Jefus King laft lefs liv'd live loft Lord Love Luft Mafter meaſure Mercy moft Mufick muft Occafion pafs Perfons Pfalms Pleaſure Pofy poor Praife praiſe pray Prayers prefent Prieft raiſe Reafon reft rejoyce rife Rofe Saviour ſay ſee ſhall Sorrow Soul Tears thee thefe themſelves theſe thine things thofe thoſe thou art thou doft Thoughts thy felf unto uſe Verfe whofe Woodnot World
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Página 169 - I, the unkind, ungrateful ? Ah, my dear ! I cannot look on thee.' Love took my hand, and smiling did reply, 'Who made the eyes but I ?' 'Truth, Lord; but I have marred them; let my shame Go where it doth deserve.
Página 70 - 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 89 - 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...
Página 161 - 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 23 - I GOT me flowers to straw Thy way; I got me boughs off many a tree: But Thou wast up by break of day, And brought'st Thy sweets along with Thee. The sun arising in the east, Though he give light, and th' east perfume; If they should offer to contest With Thy arising, they presume.
Página 62 - But no hearing. O that Thou shouldst give dust a tongue To cry to Thee, And then not hear it crying ! all day long My heart was in my knee, But no hearing. Therefore my soul lay out of sight, Untuned, unstrung : My feeble spirit, unable to look right, Like a nipt blossom, hung Discontented.
Página 148 - The late-past frosts tributes of pleasure bring. Grief melts away Like snow in May, As if there were no such cold thing. Who would have thought my shrivelled heart Could have recovered greenness?
Página 59 - To dig thee out of thy dark cave and grot. Then forcing thee, by fire he made thee bright : Nay, thou hast got the face of man ; for we Have with our stamp and seal transferr'd our right ; Thou art the man, and man but dross to thee.
Página 149 - And now in age I bud again, After so many deaths I live and write; I once more smell the dew and rain, And relish versing: O my only light, It cannot be That I am he, On whom thy tempests fell all night.
Página 88 - I JOY, dear Mother, when I view Thy perfect lineaments, and hue Both sweet and bright : Beauty in thee takes up her place, And dates her letters from thy face, When she doth write.