1 min read
Слушать(AI)Psalm CXVII
O all ye Nations record,
The Praises of the Lord;
Ye people through the Universe,
Your Makers praise rehearse.
For He to us great kindness shewes,
And Mercies large bestowes.
His constant Truth no time decaies:
The Lord for ever praise.
Henry King
Henry King (1592 – 30 September 1669) was an English poet who served as Bishop of Chichester.
Comments
You need to be signed in to write comments
Other author posts
SONNET The Double Rock
Since thou hast view'd some Gorgon, and art grown A solid stone: To bring again to softness thy hard heart Is past my art Ice may relent to water in a thaw; But stone made flesh Loves Chymistry ne're saw
A Contemplation upon Flowers
VE flowers—that I could gallant it like you, And be as little vain You come abroad, and make a harmless show, And to your beds of earth again You are not proud: you know your birth: For your embroider'd garments are from earth...
Madam Gabrina Or the Ill-favourd Choice
Con mala Muger el remedio Mucha Tierra por el medio I have oft wondred why thou didst elect Thy Mistress of a stuff none could affect, That wore his eyes in the right place A thing Made up, when Natures powers lay slumbering
The Pink
Fair one, you did on me bestow Comparisons too sweet to ow; And but I found them sent from you I durst not think they could be true But 'tis your uncontrolled power Goddess-like to produce a flower, And by your breath, without more ...