Henry Vaughan

Henry Vaughan

1,001 карма
Henry Vaughan (17 April 1621 – 23 April 1695) was a Welsh metaphysical poet, author, translator and physician, writing in English. He is chiefly known for religious poetry published in Silex Scintillans in 1650, with a second part in 1655.
Все работыПоиск

The Shepherds

от·
Sweet, harmless lives
(on whose holy leisure Waits innocence and pleasure),
Whose leaders to those pastures, and clear springs, Were patriarchs, saints, and kings,
How happened it that in the dead of night You only saw true light,...
Читать дальше

Upon The Priory Grove His Usual Retirement

от·
Hail sacred shades
cool, leavy House
Chaste treasurer of all my vows,
And wealth
Читать дальше

Quickness

от·
False life, a foil and no more,
Wilt thou be gone
Thou foul deception of all
That would not have the true come on
Читать дальше

The Revival

от·
Unfold
unfold
Take in His light, Who makes thy cares more short than night
The joys which with His day-star rise, He deals to all but drowsy eyes; And (what the men of this world miss) Some drops and dews of future bliss...
Читать дальше

The Water-Fall

от·
With what deep murmurs through time's silent
Doth thy transparent, cool, and wat'ry wealth Here flowing fall, And chide, and call,
As if his liquid, loose retinue
Ling'ring, and were of this steep place afraid; The common pass Where...
Читать дальше

The Star

от·
Whatever 'tis, whose beauty here below Attracts thee thus and makes thee stream and flow, And wind and curl, and wink and smile, Shifting thy gate and guile; Though thy close commerce nought at all imbars My present search, for eagles eye not star...
Читать дальше

The True Christmas

от·
So stick up ivy and the bays,
And then restore the heathen ways
Green will remind you of the spring,
Though this great day denies the thing
Читать дальше

I Walkd The Other Day

от·
I walk'd the other day, to spend my hour, Into a field, Where I sometimes had seen the soil to yield A gallant flow'r; But winter now had ruffled all the bow'r And curious store I knew there heretofore
Yet I, whose search lov'd not to peep an...
Читать дальше

Unprofitableness

от·
How rich,
O Lord
how fresh thy visits are
'Twas but just now my bleak leaves hopeless hung Sullied with dust and mud;
Читать дальше

Man

от·
Weighing the steadfastness and
Of some mean things which here below reside,
Where birds like watchful clocks the noiseless
And intercourse of times divide;
Читать дальше

The Call

от·
1
ME, my heart
come, my head,           In sighs, and tears
'Tis now, since you have lain thus dead,           Some twenty years ;           Awake, awake,           Some pity take           Upon yourselves
Читать дальше

Peace

от·
My Soul, there is a country Afar beyond the stars, Where stands a winged sentry All skillful in the wars; There, above noise and danger Sweet Peace sits, crown'd with smiles, And One born in a manger Commands the beauteous files
He is thy gra...
Читать дальше

The Bird

от·
Hither thou com'st: the busy wind all
Blew through thy lodging, where thy own warm
Thy pillow was
Many a sullen storm(For which coarse man seems much the fitter born)Rained on thy
Читать дальше

O Lord the hope of Israel

от·
O Lord, the hope of Israel, all they that
Thee shall be ashamed ;  and they that depart
Thee, shall be written in the earth, because they haveforsaken the Lord, the fountain of living waters
Heal me,
Читать дальше

The Dawning

от·
Ah
what time wilt Thou come
when shall that cry,"The bridegroom's coming," fill the sky
Shall it in the evening run,
Читать дальше

The Morning-Watch

от·
O joys
infinite sweetness
with what flow'rs And shoots of glory my soul breaks and buds
All the long hours Of night, and rest, Through the still shrouds Of sleep, and clouds, This dew fell on my breast; Oh, how it bloods And spirits...
Читать дальше
Показать больше