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
Upon the death of my ever desired friend Doctor Donne Dean of Pauls
To have liv'd eminent in a degreee Beyond our lofty'st flights, that is like thee; Or t'have had too much merit is not safe; For such excesses find no Epitaph At common graves we have Poetick eyes Can melt themselves in easie Elegies;
Psalm CL
Praise ye the Lord, your Songs address To praise His Holynes: O praise Him in His pow'rs extent, Who rules the firmament Praise Him for all His acts of might,
Tell Me No More How Fair She Is
LL me no more how fair she is, I have no minde to hear The story of that distant bliss I never shall come near: By sad experience I have found That her perfection is my wound And tell me not how fond I am To tempt a daring Fate, From whence n...
To a Friend upon Overburys wife given to her
I know no fitter subject for your view Then this, a meditation ripe for you, As you for it Which when you read you'l see What kind of wife your self will one day bee: Which happy day be neer you, and may this Remain with you as earn...
