I Made a posie, while the day ran by:
“Here will I smell my remnant out, and tie
My life within this band.”
But Time did beckon to the flowers, and they
By noon most cunningly did steal away,
And withered in my hand.
My...
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...
Said I not so,—that I would sin no more?
Witness, my God, I did;
Yet I am run again upon the score:
My faults cannot be hid.
What shall I do?—make vows and break them still?
’T will be but labor lost;
My good cannot prevail against...
WHEN God at first made man,
Having a glass of blessings standing by,
Let us (said he) pour on him all we can:
Let the world’s riches, which dispersèd lie,
Contract into a span.
So strength first made a way;
Then beauty...
Sweet Peace, where dost thou dwell? I humbly crave,
Let me once know.
I sought thee in a secret cave;
And asked if Peace were there.
A hollow wind did seem to answer, “No!
Go, seek elsewhere.”
I did; and, going, did a...
Come, my way, my truth, my life—
Such a way as gives us breath;
Such a truth as ends all strife;
Such a life as killeth death.
Come my light, my feast, my strength—
Such a light as shows a feast;
Such a feast as mends in length;
...
To write a verse or two is all the praise
That I can raise;
Mend my estate in any wayes,
Thou shalt have more.
I go to church; help me to wings, and I
Will thither flie;
Or, if I mount unto the skie...
Sweet Day, so cool, so calm, so bright,
The bridall of the earth and skie;
The dew shall weep thy fall to-night;
For thou must die.
Sweet Rose, whose hue angrie and brave
Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye,
Thy root is ever in its...
HOW fresh, O Lord, how sweet and clean
Are thy returns! even as the flowers in spring;
To which, besides their own demean,
The late-past frosts tributes of pleasure bring.
Grief melts away
Like snow in May,
As if there...
Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back,
Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
If I lacked anything.
"A guest," I answered, "worthy to be here":
Love said...
