The temple, sacred poems and private ejaculations. [With] The synagogue, Volumes 1-21667 |
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Page 16
... night what thou haft done by day ;. And in the morning , what thou haft to do . Dreffe and undreffe thy foul : mark the decay And growth of it : if with thy watch , that too Be down , then wind up both : fince we shall be Moft furely ...
... night what thou haft done by day ;. And in the morning , what thou haft to do . Dreffe and undreffe thy foul : mark the decay And growth of it : if with thy watch , that too Be down , then wind up both : fince we shall be Moft furely ...
Page 22
... night . Was ever grief , & c . They chufe a murderer , and all agree - In him to do themselves a curtefie : For it was their own cause who killed me . Was ever grief , & c . And a feditious murderer he was : But I the Prince of peace ...
... night . Was ever grief , & c . They chufe a murderer , and all agree - In him to do themselves a curtefie : For it was their own cause who killed me . Was ever grief , & c . And a feditious murderer he was : But I the Prince of peace ...
Page 51
... night , When he beheld twelve Suns for one oing about the world , and giving light . 7 . But fince thofe pipes of gold , which brought That cordial water to our ground , 5 Were cut and martyr'd by the fault ' C fthofe , who did ...
... night , When he beheld twelve Suns for one oing about the world , and giving light . 7 . But fince thofe pipes of gold , which brought That cordial water to our ground , 5 Were cut and martyr'd by the fault ' C fthofe , who did ...
Page 52
... nights captives O'let grace Drop from above ! The dew doth ev'ry morning fall ; And fhall the dew out - ftrip thy Dove ? The dew , for which grafs cannot call , Drop from above ! Death is ftill working like a mole , And digs my grave at ...
... nights captives O'let grace Drop from above ! The dew doth ev'ry morning fall ; And fhall the dew out - ftrip thy Dove ? The dew , for which grafs cannot call , Drop from above ! Death is ftill working like a mole , And digs my grave at ...
Page 56
... night : that is the gale , this th ' harbour ; ! That is the walk , and this the arbour ; ; Or that the garden , this the grove . My God , thou art all love . Not one poor minute fcapes thy breaft , But brings a favour from above : And ...
... night : that is the gale , this th ' harbour ; ! That is the walk , and this the arbour ; ; Or that the garden , this the grove . My God , thou art all love . Not one poor minute fcapes thy breaft , But brings a favour from above : And ...
Common terms and phrases
alfo beafts Becauſe beft beſt bleffed bloud canft Chrift Chriftians Church dear death defire delight didft doth dreft duft earth elfe ev'n ev'ry eyes fafely faft faid fame fear feek feem felves ferve fev'ral fhall fhame fhew fhine fhould fide figh filks fince fing firft fleep fleſh flow'rs fome forrow foul fpring ftand ftars ftill ftones fuch fure fweet glory Gods grace grief grone hand hath heart heaven himſelf holy Holy Orders honour houfe joyes King lefs loft Lord meaſure mirth moft moſt mufick muft muſt paffion pafs pleaſure pofie poor praife prefent raiſe reft rife rofe Saviour ſay ſhall skie ſtay ſweet tears thee thefe theſe thine things thofe thoſe thou art thou canst thou didst thou doft thou haft thou wilt thoughts thy felf thy praiſe treaſure unto uſe vertue whofe wind
Popular passages
Page 91 - Each creature hath a wisdom for his good. The pigeons feed their tender offspring crying, When they are callow ; but withdraw their food, When they are fledged, that need may teach them flying.
Page 78 - For us, the winds do blow, The earth doth rest, heaven move, and fountains flow; Nothing we see, but means our good, As our delight, or as our treasure; The whole is either our cupboard of food, Or cabinet of pleasure.
Page 91 - 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...
Page 74 - 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 150 - Into thy face, Thou art grown fair and full of grace, Much in request, much sought for as a good. For we do now behold thee gay and glad, As at doomsday, When souls shall wear their new array, And all thy bones with beauty shall be clad.
Page 149 - Will not grow bright and clean. A servant with this clause Makes drudgery divine: Who sweeps a room, as for Thy laws, Makes that and the action fine. This is the famous stone That turneth all to gold : For that which God doth touch and own Cannot for less be told.
Page 119 - The Collar I struck the board, and cry'd, No more. I will abroad. What? shall I ever sigh and pine? My lines and life are free; free as the rode, Loose as the winde, as large as store. Shall I be still in suit? Have I no harvest but a thorn To let me bloud, and not restore What I have lost with cordiall fruit? Sure there was wine...
Page 24 - I straight return'd, and, knowing his great birth, Sought him accordingly in great resorts ; In cities, theatres, gardens, parks, and courts : At length I heard a ragged noise and mirth Of theeves and murderers : there I him espied, "Who straight Your suit is granted, said, and died.
Page 130 - 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?