The Religious Poems of Richard Crashaw

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B. Herder, 1914 - 136 страници
 

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Страница 49 - My true account, lest he returning chide; ' Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?' 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 11 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 120 - And thus looking within and around me, I ever renew (With that stoop of the soul which in bending upraises it too) The submission of man's nothing-perfect to God's allcomplete, As by each new obeisance in spirit, I climb to his feet.
Страница 95 - The seas are quiet when the winds give o'er; So, calm are we when passions are no more! For then we know how vain it was to boast Of fleeting things, so certain to be lost.
Страница 11 - What conscience dictates to be done, Or warns me not to do, This, teach me more than hell to shun, That, more than Heaven pursue. What blessings Thy free bounty gives, Let me not cast away; For God is paid when man receives, T
Страница 107 - Still glides the stream, and shall for ever glide; The Form remains, the Function never dies; While we, the brave, the mighty, and the wise, We Men, who in our morn of youth defied The elements, must vanish; — be it so! Enough, if something from our hands have power To live, and act, and serve the future hour; And if, as toward the silent tomb we go, Through love, through hope, and faith's transcendent dower, We feel that we are greater than we know.
Страница 47 - TEACH me, my God and King, In all things Thee to see, And what I do in anything, To do it as for Thee...
Страница 46 - Who God doth late and early pray More of his grace than gifts to lend, And entertains the harmless day With a religious book or friend ; This man is freed from servile bands Of hope to rise, or fear to fall ; Lord of himself, though not of lands ; And having nothing, yet hath all.
Страница 112 - He that hath found some fledged bird's nest may know At first sight if the bird be flown ; But what fair well or grove he sings in now, That is to him unknown. And yet, as angels in some brighter dreams Call to the soul when man doth sleep, So some strange thoughts transcend our wonted themes. And into glory peep.
Страница 99 - Hark! they whisper; Angels say, Sister Spirit, come away. What is this absorbs me quite? Steals my senses, shuts my sight, Drowns my spirits, draws my breath? Tell me, my Soul, can this be Death?
Страница 48 - Yet be it less or more, or soon or slow, It shall be still in strictest measure even To that same lot, however mean or high, Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heaven ; All is, if I have grace to use it so, As ever in my great Task-Master's eye.

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