·
4 мин
Слушать

The Collar

I struck the board, and cry'd,

No more;                    I will abroad.    What? shall I ever sigh and pine?

My lines and life are free; free as the rode,    Loose as the winde, as large as store.                    Shall I be still in suit?    Have I no harvest but a thorn    To let me bloud, and not

What I have lost with cordiall fruit?              Sure there was wine,    Before my sighs did drie it: there was corn,      Before my tears did drown it.    Is the yeare onely lost to me?      Have I no bayes to crown it?

No flowers, no garlands gay? all blasted?                    All wasted?    Not so, my heart: but there is fruit,              And thou hast hands.      Recover all thy sigh-blown

On double pleasures: leave thy cold

Of what is fit, and not forsake thy cage,              Thy rope of sands,

Which pettie thoughts have made, and made to thee    Good cable, to enforce and draw,              And be thy law,    While thou didst wink and wouldst not see.              Away; take heed:              I will abroad.

Call in thy death's head there: tie up thy fears.              He that forbears      To suit and serve his need,              Deserves his load.

But as I rav'd, and grew more fierce and wilde,              At every word,      Methought I heard one calling,

Childe:            And I reply'd,

My Lord.

Modern Spelling     I struck the board, and cried, "No more!        I will abroad.    What! shall I ever sigh and pine?    My lines and life are free; free as the road,        Loose as the wind, as large as store.            Shall I be still in suit?        Have I no harvest but a thorn        To let me blood, and not restore    What I have lost with cordial fruit?              Sure there was wine      Before my sighs did dry it; there was corn          Before my tears did drown it.      Is the year only lost to me?          Have I no bays to crown it?  No flowers, no garlands gay? all blasted?              All wasted?      Not so, my heart; but there is fruit,              And thou hast hands.          Recover all thy sigh-blown age  On double pleasures; leave thy cold dispute  Of what is fit and not; forsake thy cage,              Thy rope of sands,  Which petty thoughts have made, and made to thee      Good cable, to enforce and draw,              And be thy law,      While thou didst wink and wouldst not see.              Away! take heed;              I will abroad.  Call in thy death's-head there; tie up thy fears;              He that forbears          To suit and serve his need              Deserves his load."  But as I rav'd, and grew more fierce and wild              At every word,      Me thoughts I heard one calling, "Child";              And I replied, "My Lord."Suggesting discipline with probable reference to Matthew xi.20-30 :--'20.

Then began he to upbraid the cities wherein most of his mighty works were done, because they repented not: 21.

Woe unto thee,

Chorazin! woe unto thee,

Bethsaida! for if the mighty works, which were done in you, had been done in Tyre and Sidon, they would have repented long ago in sackcloth and ashes.22.

But I say unto you,

It shall be more tolerable for Tyre and Sidon at the day of judgment, than for you.23.

And thou,

Capernaum, which art exalted unto heaven, shalt be brought down to hell: for if the mighty works, which have been done in thee, had been done in Sodom, it would have remained until this day.24.

But I say unto you,

That it shall be more tolerable for the land of Sodom in the day of judgment, than for thee.25.

At that time Jesus answered and said,

I thank thee,

O Father,

Lord of heaven and earth, because thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes.27.

All things are delivered unto me of my Father: and no man knoweth the Son, but the Father; neither knoweth any man the Father, save the Son, and he to whomsoever the Son will reveal him.28.

Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.29.

Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.30.

For my yoke is easy, and my burden is

JV.

0
0
135
Подарок

George Herbert

George Herbert (3 April 1593 – 1 March 1633)[1] was a Welsh-born poet, orator, and priest of the Church of England. His poetry is associated wit…
Комментарии
Вам нужно войти , чтобы оставить комментарий
Сегодня читают
Ryfma
Ryfma - это социальная сеть для публикации книг, стихов и прозы, для общения писателей и читателей. Публикуй стихи и прозу бесплатно.