The Temple: And the Country Parson

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J. B. Dow, 1842 - Religious poetry - 369 pages
 

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Page 158 - 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.
Page 238 - Let us (said He) pour on him all we can. Let the world's riches, which dispersed lie, Contract into a span. So strength first made a way, Then beauty flowed, then wisdom, honour, pleasure. When almost all was out, God made a stay, Perceiving that alone of all His treasure Rest in the bottom lay. For if I should...
Page 112 - LORD, with what care hast thou begirt us round ! Parents first season us ; then schoolmasters Deliver us to laws ; they send us bound To rules of reason, holy messengers — Pulpits and Sundays ; sorrow dogging sin ; Afflictions sorted ; anguish of all sizes...
Page 71 - 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.
Page 183 - Sir, said she, Tell me, I pray, whose hands are those ? But thou shalt answer, Lord, for me. Then Money came, and chinking still, What tune is this, poor man ? said he : I heard in Music you had skill: But thou shalt answer, Lord, for me.
Page 165 - 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 wither'd in my hand. My hand was next to them, and then my heart ; I took, without more thinking, in good part Time's gentle admonition ; Who did so sweetly death's sad taste convey, Making my mind to smell my fatal day, Yet sugaring the suspicion.
Page 86 - 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.
Page 123 - WHO says that fictions only and false hair Become a verse ? Is there in truth no beauty ? Is all good structure in a winding stair...
Page 231 - I no bays to crown it? No flowers, no garlands gay? All blasted? All wasted ? Not so, my heart; but there is fruit, And thou hast hands. Recover all thy sigh-blown age On double pleasures; leave thy cold dispute Of what is fit and not; forsake thy cage, Thy rope of sands Which...
Page 154 - THE WORLD. L-,OVE built a stately house, where Fortune came, And spinning fancies, she was heard to say That her fine cobwebs did support the frame, Whereas they were supported by the same ; But Wisdom quickly swept them all away. Then Pleasure came, who, liking not the fashion, Began to make balconies, terraces...

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