Sacred Classics, Or, Cabinet Library of Divinity, Том 21Richard Cattermole, Henry Stebbing J. Hatchard, 1835 |
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Страница xviii
... singing the usual hymn of the Jews , in celebrating the Passover . It was continued and extended by the apostles ; who earnestly enjoined the practice upon their con- verts . At a very early period , the use of music and verse in their ...
... singing the usual hymn of the Jews , in celebrating the Passover . It was continued and extended by the apostles ; who earnestly enjoined the practice upon their con- verts . At a very early period , the use of music and verse in their ...
Страница xix
... singing David's Psalms . " By degrees these emotions would be wrought into a higher strain . Skill would come to the aid of piety ; and the bold , yet trembling hand of genius , too long accustomed to Apollo's lyre , would reverently ...
... singing David's Psalms . " By degrees these emotions would be wrought into a higher strain . Skill would come to the aid of piety ; and the bold , yet trembling hand of genius , too long accustomed to Apollo's lyre , would reverently ...
Страница 3
... sing Unto the God of love , high heaven's King . Many lewd layes ( ah ! woe is me the more ! ) In praise of that mad fit which fools call love , I have in the heat of youth made heretofore , That in light wits did loose affection move ...
... sing Unto the God of love , high heaven's King . Many lewd layes ( ah ! woe is me the more ! ) In praise of that mad fit which fools call love , I have in the heat of youth made heretofore , That in light wits did loose affection move ...
Страница 21
... sing , And those most sacred mysteries unfold Of that faire love of mightie Heaven's King ; Enough is me to admyre so heavenly thing , And , being thus with her huge love possest In the only wonder of herselfe to rest . But whoso may ...
... sing , And those most sacred mysteries unfold Of that faire love of mightie Heaven's King ; Enough is me to admyre so heavenly thing , And , being thus with her huge love possest In the only wonder of herselfe to rest . But whoso may ...
Страница 45
... Sing like a swan , as if thou went'st to bliss . And thou , my soul , which turn'st with curious eye , To view the beams of thine own form divine , Know , that thou canst know nothing perfectly , While thou art clouded with this flesh ...
... Sing like a swan , as if thou went'st to bliss . And thou , my soul , which turn'st with curious eye , To view the beams of thine own form divine , Know , that thou canst know nothing perfectly , While thou art clouded with this flesh ...
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angels art thou beams beauty behold blessed blind bliss blood breast breath bright canst Christ clouds creatures crown dark dead dear death delight didst divine doth drest dust earth Edom Eridan eternal ev'n ev'ry eyes face fair fear fire flaming flesh flowers foes FRANCIS QUARLES GEORGE WITHER GILES FLETCHER glorious glory God's grace grave grief hand hath head heart heav'n heavenly hell HENRY KING holy honour Introductory Essay Jeremy Taylor John Hatchard King light live lively coloured look Lord man's mercy mind never night pain PHINEAS FLETCHER pleasure poet poor pow'r praise PSALM rest Rickerby sacred shame shine sighs sight sing sins SIR JOHN DAVIES sleep songs sorrow soul spirits spring stars sweet tears thee thine things thou art thou dost thou hast thought thousand throne thyself tongue unto verse weep wind wings wound wretched
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Страница 321 - And sullen Moloch fled, Hath left in shadows dread His burning idol all of blackest hue; In vain with cymbals' ring They call the grisly king, In dismal dance about the furnace blue; The brutish gods of Nile as fast, Isis and Orus, and the dog Anubis, haste.
Страница 328 - I fondly ask: but Patience, to prevent That murmur, soon replies, 'God doth not need Either man's work or his own gifts. Who best Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best: his state Is kingly: thousands at his bidding speed, And post o'er land and ocean without rest; They also serve who only stand and wait.
Страница 315 - It was the winter wild While the heaven-born Child All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies ; Nature in awe to Him Had doffed her gaudy trim, With her great Master so to sympathize : It was no season then for her To wanton with the sun, her lusty paramour.
Страница 253 - 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.
Страница 320 - With terror of that blast Shall from the surface to the centre shake, When, at the world's last session, The dreadful Judge in middle air shall spread His throne. And then at last our bliss Full and perfect is, But now begins; for from this happy day The old Dragon under ground, In straiter limits bound, Not half so far casts his usurped sway; And, wroth to see his kingdom fail, Swinges the scaly horror of his folded tail.
Страница 318 - Ring out, ye crystal spheres ! Once bless our human ears (If ye have power to touch our senses so), And let your silver chime Move in melodious time ; And let the bass of heaven's deep organ blow; And with your ninefold harmony Make up full consort to the angelic symphony.
Страница 327 - O'er all the Italian fields, where still doth sway The triple Tyrant ; that from these may grow A hundredfold, who, having learnt thy way, Early may fly the Babylonian woe.
Страница 236 - 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...
Страница 321 - In consecrated earth, And on the holy hearth, The Lars and Lemures moan with midnight plaint, In urns, and altars round, A drear and dying sound Affrights the Flamens at their service quaint; And the chill marble seems to sweat, While each peculiar Power foregoes his wonted seat.
Страница 317 - And though the shady gloom Had given day her room, The sun himself withheld his wonted speed, And hid his head for shame, As his inferior flame The new-enlightened world no more should need; He saw a greater Sun appear Than his bright throne, or burning axletree, could bear.