The Poetical Works of Henry Vaughan: With a Memoir (1871)

Henry Vaughan

The Poetical Works of Henry Vaughan: With a Memoir (1871)
Format
Hardback
Publisher
Kessinger Publishing
Country
United States
Published
1 August 2009
Pages
320
ISBN
9781120083630

The Poetical Works of Henry Vaughan: With a Memoir (1871)

Henry Vaughan

Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: In sacred hymnes and order, the great chime And symphony of nature. Prayer is The world in tune, A spirit-voyce, And vocall joyes, Whose Eccho is heaven’s blisse. 0 let me elimbe When I lye down! The pious soul by night Is like a clouded starre, whose beames, though said To shed their light Under some cloud, Yet are above, And shine and move Beyond that mistie shrowd. So in my bed, That curtain’d grave, though sleep, like ashes, hide My lamp and life, both shall in thee abide. THE EVENING WATCH. ? A DIALOGUE. ! I goe to sleep; but when The day-star springs, I'le wake agen. sour,, Goe, sleep in peace; and when thou lyest Unnumber’d in thy dust, when all this frame Is but one dramme, and what thou now descriest In sevrall parts shall want a name, Then may his peace be with thee, and each dust Writ in his book, who ne'r betray’d man’s trust! BODY. Amen ! but hark, eer we two stray, How many hours dost think ‘till day ? soui. Ah ! go; thou'rt weak and sleepie. Heav'n Is a plain watch, and without figures winds All ages up; who drew this circle, even He, fils it; dayes and hours are blinds. Yet this take with thee; the last gasp of time Is thy first breath, and man’s eternall prime. SILENCE AND STEALTH OF DATES. Silence and stealth of dayes! 'tis now, Since thou art gone, Twelve hundred houres, and not a brow But clouds hang on. As he that in some cave’s thick damp, Lockt from the light, Fixeth a solitary lamp, To brave the night, And walking from his sun, when past That glim'ring ray, Cuts through the heavy mists in haste Back to his day; So o'er fled minutes I retreat Unto that hour, Which shew’d thee last, but did defeat Thy light and pow'r. I search, and rack my soul to …

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