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 I prethee turn that face away
I prethee turn that face away Whose splendour but benights my day Sad eyes like mine, and wounded hearts Shun the bright rayes which beauty darts Unwelcome is the Sun that pries Into those shades where sorrow lies Go shine on happy ...
On the Earl of Essex
Essex twice made unhappy by a Wife, Yet Marry'd worse unto the Peoples strife: He who by two Divorces did untie His Bond of Wedlock and of Loyalty: Who was by Easiness of Nature bred,
The Surrender
MY once dear love, hapless that I no more Must call thee so, the rich affection's store That fed our hope lies now exhaust and spent, Like sums of treasure unto bankrupts lent We, that did nothing study but the way To love each other, wi...
The Exequy
Accept, thou shrine of my dead saint, Instead of dirges, this complaint; And for sweet flow'rs to crown thy hearse, From thy griev'd friend, whom thou might'st
