The Works of George Herbert, Том 2

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Сторінка 85 - SWEET day, so cool, so calm, so bright, The bridal of the earth and sky, The dew shall weep thy fall to-night; For thou must die. Sweet rose, whose hue angry and brave Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave, And thou must die.
Сторінка 1 - THOU, whose sweet youth and early hopes enhance Thy rate and price, and mark thee for a treasure, Hearken unto a Verser, who may chance Rhyme thee to good, and make a bait of pleasure : A verse may find him, who a sermon flies, And turn delight into a sacrifice.
Сторінка 200 - I, the unkind, ungrateful ? Ah, my dear, I cannot look on thee. Love took my hand, and smiling did reply, Who made the eyes but I ? Truth, Lord, but I have marr'd them : let my shame Go where it doth deserve.
Сторінка 6 - Dare to look in thy chest ; for 'tis thine own : And tumble up and down what thou find'st there. Who cannot rest till he good fellows find, He breaks up house, turns out of doors his mind.
Сторінка 34 - I GOT me flowers to straw Thy way; I got me boughs off many a tree: But Thou wast up by break of day, And brought'st Thy sweets along with Thee. The sun arising in the east, Though he give light, and th' east perfume; If they should offer to contest With Thy arising, they presume.
Сторінка 210 - 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 distils thy praise, and doth forbid Poets to turn it to another use. Roses and lilies speak thee ; and to make A pair of cheeks of them, is thy abuse.
Сторінка 35 - With thee O let me rise As larks, harmoniously, And sing this day thy victories: Then shall the fall further the flight in me.
Сторінка 16 - Sum up at night what thou hast done by day ; And in the morning, what thou hast to do. Dress and undress thy soul ; mark the decay And growth of it. If, with thy watch, that too Be down, then wind up both. Since we shall be Most surely judged, make thy accounts agree.
Сторінка 88 - MAN. MY God, I heard this day, That none doth build a stately habitation, But he that means to dwell therein. What house more stately hath there been, Or can be, than is Man ? to whose creation All things are in decay.
Сторінка 131 - I have their fruit, and more. Blessed be God, who prosper'd Noah's vine, And made it bring forth grapes good store.

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