Lives of Sacred Poets |
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Page vii
... seem to have peculiarly fitted him for the task . My own position was felt to be one of considerable difficulty . An unexplored region lay before me , abound- ing in treasure sufficient to realize the most enthusiastic expectations ...
... seem to have peculiarly fitted him for the task . My own position was felt to be one of considerable difficulty . An unexplored region lay before me , abound- ing in treasure sufficient to realize the most enthusiastic expectations ...
Page viii
... seem to intimate that the poet's sufferings were not feigned . His " Extreme Passion " must have been the genuine outpouring of unmitigated wretchedness : -- Where all day long in helpless cares , All hopeless of relief , I wish for ...
... seem to intimate that the poet's sufferings were not feigned . His " Extreme Passion " must have been the genuine outpouring of unmitigated wretchedness : -- Where all day long in helpless cares , All hopeless of relief , I wish for ...
Page ix
... seem dark That comes into my mind ; My youth to age ; or else because My comforts are so cold , My sorrow makes me in conceit To be decrepit , old , - My hopes to fears ; or else because My fortunes are forlorn , My fancy makes me make ...
... seem dark That comes into my mind ; My youth to age ; or else because My comforts are so cold , My sorrow makes me in conceit To be decrepit , old , - My hopes to fears ; or else because My fortunes are forlorn , My fancy makes me make ...
Page xiii
... seem to have precluded the necessity of any future biography of that poet ; but this objection is easily obviated . The Lives of Walton , although interesting in their matter , and affectionate in their tone , are often tedious and ...
... seem to have precluded the necessity of any future biography of that poet ; but this objection is easily obviated . The Lives of Walton , although interesting in their matter , and affectionate in their tone , are often tedious and ...
Page 4
... seems to have been entirely destitute of literary talent and poetical feeling ; Marôt , on the contrary , the idol of a romantic Court , negligent and luxurious in his life , was endowed with a grace of style , a sportiveness of fancy ...
... seems to have been entirely destitute of literary talent and poetical feeling ; Marôt , on the contrary , the idol of a romantic Court , negligent and luxurious in his life , was endowed with a grace of style , a sportiveness of fancy ...
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Common terms and phrases
admiration Anthony Wood appear Aubrey beautiful Ben Jonson Bishop Cambridge Christian Church College comfort Crashaw Cromwell Danvers Dean Prior death Denham Divine doth Earl earth edition Emblems English esteemed eyes Faerie Queen fancy father favour fear Fletcher frequently George Wither Gilbert Pickering Giles Fletcher grace hand hath heart heaven Henry Herbert History Holy honour hope Hymns James James Duport Jeremy Taylor John Danvers Jonson King labours learning letter lived London Lord Lord Bacon Marshalsea Master Meditations mercy Milton mind Muse never night Oxford Parliament Peterhouse piety poem poet poet's poetical poetry praise prayers printed Psalms published Quarles reader Rector sacred SACRED POETS says Shepherd's Sir John song sorrow soul specimens Spenser stanza thee things thou thought tion translation University of Cambridge unto verses virtues volume Walton wife Wood words writer
Popular passages
Page 229 - Death, be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so; For those, whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow, Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me. From rest and sleep, which but thy...
Page 225 - 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. Sweet Spring, full of sweet days and roses, A box where sweets compacted lie, My Music shows ye have your closes, And all must die. Only a...
Page 196 - However, I need not their help to reprove the vanity of those many love-poems, that are daily writ, and consecrated to Venus ; nor to bewail that so few are writ, that look towards God and Heaven. For my own part, my meaning — dear Mother — is, in these Sonnets, to declare my resolution to be, that my poor abilities in Poetry, shall be all and ever consecrated to God's glory: and I beg you to receive this as one testimony.
Page 245 - Before I understood this place Appointed for my second race, Or taught my soul to fancy ought But a white, celestial thought, When yet I had not walked above A mile or two, from my first love, And looking back (at that short space) Could see a glimpse of his bright face; When on some gilded cloud or flower My gazing soul would dwell an hour, And in those weaker glories spy Some shadows of eternity...
Page 176 - When the passing-bell doth toll, And the furies in a shoal Come to fright a parting soul, Sweet Spirit, comfort me! When the tapers now burn blue, And the comforters are few, And that number more than true, Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
Page 307 - Therefore judge nothing before the time, until the Lord come, who both will bring to light the hidden things of darkness, and will make manifest the counsels of the hearts : and then shall every man have praise of God.
Page 307 - But why dost thou judge thy brother? or why dost thou set at nought thy brother? for we shall all stand before the judgment seat of Christ.
Page 245 - But when the hand that locked her up gives room, She'll shine through all the sphere. O Father of eternal life, and all Created glories under Thee, Resume thy spirit from this world of thrall Into true liberty. Either disperse these mists, which blot and fill My perspective still as they pass ; Or else remove me hence unto that hill, Where I shall need no glass.
Page 68 - Some things that may sweeten gladness, In the very gall of sadness. The dull loneness, the black shade, That these hanging vaults have made; The strange music of the waves, Beating on these hollow caves; This black den which rocks emboss, Overgrown with eldest moss: The rude portals that give light More to terror than delight; This my chamber of neglect, Walled about with disrespect. From all these, and this dull air, A fit object for despair, She hath taught me by her might To draw comfort and delight.
Page 175 - In the hour of my distress, When temptations me oppress, And when I my sins confess, Sweet Spirit, comfort me! When I lie within my bed, Sick in heart, and sick in head, And with doubts discomforted, Sweet Spirit, comfort me!