The Poetical Works of Henry Vaughan: With a Memoir

Osgood, 1871 - 307 páginas

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Página 155 - I saw eternity the other night Like a great ring of pure and endless light, All calm as it was bright; And round beneath it, time in hours, days, years, Driv'n by the spheres, Like a vast shadow moved, in which the world And all her train were hurled...
Página 184 - He that hath found some fledged bird's nest may know At first sight if the bird be flown; But what fair well or grove he sings in now, That is to him unknown. And yet, as angels in some brighter dreams Call to the soul when man doth sleep, So some strange thoughts transcend our wonted themes, And into glory peep.
Página 264 - And he saith unto me, Write, Blessed are they which are called unto the marriage supper of the Lamb.
Página 157 - Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world. If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world. And the world passeth away, and the lust thereof: but he that doeth the will of God abideth for ever.
Página 86 - Before I understood this place Appointed for my second race, Or taught my soul to fancy aught 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...
Página 102 - MY soul, there is a country Far beyond the stars, Where stands a winged sentry All skilful in the wars ; There, above noise and danger, Sweet Peace sits crowned with smiles, And One born in a manger Commands the beauteous files. He is thy gracious friend And, O my soul awake ! Did in pure love descend To die here for thy sake ; If thou can'st get but thither, There grows the flower of peace, The rose that cannot wither, Thy fortress and thy ease. Leave then thy foolish ranges, For none can thee secure,...
Página 41 - Heal me, O Lord, and I shall be healed; save me, and I shall be saved: for thou art my praise.
Página 42 - For the grave cannot praise Thee, death cannot celebrate Thee : they that go down into the pit cannot hope for Thy truth. The living, the living, he shall praise Thee, as I do this day : the father to the children shall make known Thy truth.
Página 133 - Or will thy all-surprising light Break at midnight? When either sleep, or some dark pleasure Possesseth mad man without measure; Or shall these early, fragrant hours Unlock thy bowres? And with their blush of light descry Thy locks crown'd with eternity; Indeed, it is the only time That with thy glory doth best chime, All now are stirring, ev'ry field Full hymns doth yield, The whole Creation shakes off night, And for thy shadow looks the light...
Página 206 - Of death dost waste all senseless, cold, and dark ; Where not so much as dreams of light may shine, Nor any thought of greenness, leaf, or bark. And yet — as if some deep hate and dissent, Bred in thy growth betwixt high winds and thee, Were still alive— thou dost great storms resent Before they come, and know'st how near they be.

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