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Стр. 273 - Death, be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so; For those, whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow, Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me. From rest and sleep, which but thy...
Стр. 267 - SWEET Day, so cool, so calm, so bright, The bridal of the earth and sky, 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. Only a sweet and virtuous soul, Like season'd timber, never gives ; But though the whole world turn to coal, Then chiefly...
Стр. 79 - Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage; Minds innocent and quiet take That for an hermitage; If I have freedom in my love And in my soul am free, Angels alone, that soar above, Enjoy such liberty.
Стр. 292 - He that hath found some fledg'd bird's nest may know, At first sight, if the bird be flown; But what fair well or grove he sings in now, That is to him unknown. And yet, as angels in some brighter dreams Call to the soul, when man doth sleep, So some strange thoughts transcend our wonted themes, And into glory peep.
Стр. 194 - Cause my speech is now decayed, Sweet Spirit, comfort me! When, God knows, I'm tossed about Either with despair or doubt, Yet, before the glass be out, Sweet Spirit, comfort me! When the tempter me pursu'th With the sins of all my youth, And half damns me with untruth, Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
Стр. 246 - Whereas my birth and spirit rather took The way that takes the town, Thou didst betray me to a ling'ring book And wrap me in a gown.
Стр. 292 - Dear, beauteous death, the Jewel of the Just; Shining no where but in the dark! What mysteries do lie beyond thy dust, Could man outlook that mark.
Стр. 355 - Therefore judge nothing before the time, until the Lord come, who both will bring to light the hidden things of darkness, and will make manifest the counsels of the hearts : and then shall every man have praise of God.
Стр. 234 - However, I need not their help to reprove the vanity of those many love-poems, that are daily writ, and consecrated to Venus ; nor to bewail that so few are writ, that look towards God and Heaven. For my own part, my meaning — dear Mother — is, in these Sonnets, to declare my resolution to be, that my poor abilities in Poetry, shall be all and ever consecrated to God's glory: and I beg you to receive this as one testimony.