Deniall
When my devotions could not pierce Thy silent ears;
Then was my heart broken, as was my verse: My breast was full of fears And disorder: My bent thoughts, like a brittle bow, Did flie asunder:
Each took his way; some would to pleasures g...
When my devotions could not pierce Thy silent ears;
Then was my heart broken, as was my verse: My breast was full of fears And disorder: My bent thoughts, like a brittle bow, Did flie asunder:
Each took his way; some would to pleasures g...
I
Immortal Love, authour of this great frame,
Sprung from that beautie which can never fade;
How hath man parcel'd out thy glorious name,
After all pleasures as I rid one day, My horse and I, both tir'd, bodie and minde, With full crie of affections, quite astray;
I took up the next inne I could finde
There when I came, whom found I but my deare, My dearest Lord, expecting...
My God,
I heard this
That none doth build a stately habitation But he that means to dwell therein
What house more stately hath there been,
Lord,
Who createdst man in wealth and store, Though foolishly he lost the same, Decaying more and more, Till he became Most poore: With Thee O let me rise, As larks, harmoniously, And sing this day Thy victories:
Then shall the fall furt...
How soon doth man decay
When clothes are taken from a chest of sweets To swaddle infants, whose young breath Scarce knows the way; Those clouts are little winding-sheets,
Which do consigne and send them unto Death
When boyes go firs...
Ah, my deare angrie Lord,
Since thou dost love, yet strike;
Cast down, yet help afford;
Sure I will do the like
O who will give me tears
Come, all ye springs,
Dwell in my head and eyes: come, clouds and rain:
My grief hath need of all the watry things,
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,
Who reade a chapter when they rise,
Shall ne're be troubled with ill eyes
A poore man's rod, when thou dost ride,
Is both a weapon and a guide
Lord,
Thou art mine, and I am Thine, If mine I am: and Thine much more Then I or ought, or can be mine
Yet to be Thine, doth me restore; So that again I now am mine, And with advantage mine the more
Since this being mine, brings wit...
When first my lines of heav'nly joyes made mention,
Such was their lustre, they did so excell,
That I sought out quaint words and trim invention;
My thoughts began to burnish, sprout, and swell,