The Church-Porch. Perirrhanterium (George Herbert Poems)
Thou, whose sweet youth and early hopes inhanceThy rate and price, and mark thee for a treasure,Hearken unto a Vesper, ...
Thou, whose sweet youth and early hopes inhanceThy rate and price, and mark thee for a treasure,Hearken unto a Vesper, ...
When first thou didst entice to thee my heart, I thought the service brave;So many joyes I ...
I travell'd on, seeing the hill, where lay My expectation. ...
Oh glorious spirits, who after all your bandsSee the smooth face of God, without a frown ...
King of glorie, King of peace, I will love thee:And that ...
Lord, with what glorie wast thou serv'd of old,When Solomon's temple stood and flourished! Where most things were of ...
To write a verse or two is all the praise That I can raise; ...
Cho. Let all the world in ev'ry corner sing, ...
Philosophers have measur'd the mountains,Fathom'd the depths of the seas, of states, and kings,Walk'd with a staffe ...
Sweetest of sweets, I thank you: when displeasure Did through my bodie wound my minde,You took ...
King of glorie, King of peace,With the one make warre to cease;With the other blesse thy sheep,Thee to love, in ...
Alas, poor Death! Where is thy glory?Where is thy famous force, thy ancient sting?Alas, poor mortal, void of story!Go spell ...
O day most calm, most bright The fruit of this, the next world's bud, Th'endorsement of supreme delight, Writ by ...
To write a verse or two is all the praise That I can raise: Mend my estate in any ways, ...
When thou didst entice to thee my heart, I thought the service brave: So many joys I writ down for ...
Chorus: Let all the world in ev'ry corner sing 'My God and King.' Verse: The heav'ns are not too high, ...
Alas, poor Death! Where is thy glory? Where is thy famous force, thy ancient sting? Alas, poor mortal, void of ...
Oh all ye, who pass by, whose eyes and mind To worldly things are sharp, but to me blind; To ...
Philosophers have measur'd mountains, Fathom'd the depths of the seas, of states, and kings, Walk'd with a staff to heav'n, ...
Teach me, my God and King, In all things Thee to see, And what I do in anything To do ...
Oh King of grief! (a title strange, yet true, To thee of all kings only due) Oh King of wounds! ...
Who says that fictions only and false hair Become a verse? Is there in truth no beauty? Is all good ...
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