Life
I made a posie, while the day ran by: Here will I smell my remnant out, and tie My life within this band.
But time did beckon to the flowers, and they By noon most cunningly did steal away And wither'd in my hand. My hand was next to them, and then my heart: I took, without more thinking, in good part Times gentle admonition: Who did so sweetly deaths sad taste
Making my minde to smell my fatal day; Yet sugring the suspicion. Farewell deare flowers, sweetly your time ye spent, Fit, while ye liv'd, for smell or ornament, And after death for cures.
I follow straight without complaints or grief, Since if my sent be good,
I care not, if It be as short as yours.'Here will I smell my remnant out, and / My life within this band.':
See Genesis 1:6-10.
George Herbert
Other author posts
Sunday
O Day most calm, most bright The fruit of this, the next world's bud, Th' endorsement of supreme delight, Writ by a friend, and with his bloud; The couch of Time;
A Wreath
A wreathed garland of deserved praise, Of praise deserved, unto thee I give, I give to thee, who knowest all my wayes, My crooked winding wayes, wherein I live,
Sonnet II
Sure Lord, there is enough in thee to dry Oceans of Ink ; for, as the Deluge did Cover the Earth, so doth thy Majesty : Each Cloud distills thy praise, and doth forbid Poets to turn it to another use Roses and Lilies speak thee ; and to ...
The Dawning
Awake, sad heart, whom sorrow ever drowns: Take up thine eyes, which feed on earth, Unfold thy forehead, gather'd into frowns: Thy Saviour comes, and with Him mirth: Awake, awake; And with a thankful heart his comforts take, But thou dos...
