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ABRAHAM COWLEY angels beauty behold blessed bliss blood breast breath bright canst clouds crown dark dead dear death delight didst divine doth ears earth eternal eyes fair fear fire flame flood flower foes FRANCIS BEAUMONT FRANCIS DAVISON GEORGE GASCOIGNE glorious glory God's grace grave hand happy hath hear heart heaven heavenly hell holy honour hope immortal king labour let thy light live look Lord mercies MICHAEL DRAYTON mighty mind mortal muse ne'er night nought o'er pain pleasure poems poet poor praise pure rich RICHARD CRASHAW sacred shine sighs sight sing sins SIR EDWARD SHERBURNE sleep SONG OF PRAISE soul spirit stars sweet tears thee thine things THOMAS CAREW THOMAS DEKKER THOMAS FLATMAN THOMAS HEYWOOD thou art thou dost thou hast thought thyself true Twas unto verse virtue voice volume weep WILLIAM CARTWRIGHT wings wouldst
Page 58 - 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...
Page 333 - I SAW Eternity the other night, Like a great ring of pure and endless light, ^ All calm, as it was bright ; And round Beneath it, Time in hours, days, years, Driv'n by the spheres Like a vast shadow mov'd ; in which the world And all her train were hurl'd.
Page 320 - After the sun's remove. I see them walking in an air of glory, "Whose light doth trample on my days — My days, which are at best but dull and hoary, Mere glimmering and decays.
Page 315 - Cause my speech is now decayed, Sweet Spirit, comfort me ! When, God knows, I'm toss'd 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...
Page 324 - Before I understood this place Appointed for my second race, Or taught my soul to fancy aught But a white, celestial thought; When yet I had not walked above A mile or two from my first love, And looking back — at that short space — Could see a glimpse of his bright face...
Page 51 - HOW happy is he born and taught That serveth not another's will; Whose armour is his honest thought, And simple truth his utmost skill ! Whose passions not his masters are; Whose soul is still prepared for death, Untied unto the world by care Of public fame or private breath...
Page 320 - Dear, beauteous Death! the jewel of the Just, Shining nowhere, but in the dark; What mysteries do lie beyond thy dust, Could man outlook that mark!
Page 320 - He that hath found some fledged 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.
Page 170 - Man is his own star; and the soul that can Render an honest and a perfect man, Commands all light, all influence, all fate; Nothing to him falls early or too late. Our acts our angels are, or good or ill, Our fatal shadows that walk by us still.
Page 325 - O how I long to travel back, And tread again that ancient track ! That I might once more reach that plain, Where first I left my glorious train; From whence the enlightened spirit sees That shady city of palm trees. But ah ! my soul with too much stay Is drunk, and staggers in the way ! Some men a forward motion love, But I by backward steps would move; 30 And when this dust falls to the urn, In that state I came, return.