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Слушать(AI)Peace
. My Soul, there is a country Afar beyond the stars, Where stands a winged sentry All skillful in the wars; There, above noise and danger Sweet Peace sits, crown'd with smiles, And One born in a manger Commands the beauteous files. He is thy gracious friend And (O my Soul awake!) Did in pure love descend, To die here for thy sake. If thou canst get but thither, There grows the flow'r of peace, The rose that cannot wither, Thy fortress, and thy ease. Leave then thy foolish ranges, For none can thee secure, But One, who never changes, Thy God, thy life, thy cure.
Henry Vaughan
Henry Vaughan (17 April 1621 – 23 April 1695) was a Welsh metaphysical poet, author, translator and physician, writing in English. He is chiefly
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Friends Departed
They are all gone into the world of light And I alone sit ling’ring here; Their very memory is fair and bright, And my sad thoughts doth clear It glows and glitters in my cloudy breast, Like stars upon some gloomy grove,
The Incarnation And Passion
RD, when Thou didst Thyself undress, Laying by Thy robes of glory, To make us more, Thou wouldst be less, And becam'st a woful story To put on clouds instead of light, And clothe the morning-star with dust,
Upon The Priory Grove His Usual Retirement
Hail sacred shades cool, leavy House Chaste treasurer of all my vows, And wealth
The Dedication
To my most merciful, my most loving, and dearly loved ER, the ever blessed, the only LY and ST
