The temple, sacred poems and private ejaculations. [With] The synagogue, Volumer 1-21667 |
Inni boken
Resultat 1-5 av 41
Side 1
... pleasure , A Verfe may find him , who a Sermon flies , And turn delight into a Sacrifice . Beware of laft , it doth pollute and foul Whom God in Baptifm wafht with his own bloud . It blots the leffon written in thy foul ; The holy lines ...
... pleasure , A Verfe may find him , who a Sermon flies , And turn delight into a Sacrifice . Beware of laft , it doth pollute and foul Whom God in Baptifm wafht with his own bloud . It blots the leffon written in thy foul ; The holy lines ...
Side 2
... pleasure ? Stay at the third glass : if thou lose thy hold , Then thou art modeft , and the wine grows bold If reafon move not Gallants , quit the room , ( All in a fhipwrack shift their feveral way ) Let not a common ruine thee intomb ...
... pleasure ? Stay at the third glass : if thou lose thy hold , Then thou art modeft , and the wine grows bold If reafon move not Gallants , quit the room , ( All in a fhipwrack shift their feveral way ) Let not a common ruine thee intomb ...
Side 3
... pleasure , avarice gain : But the cheap fwearer through his open fluce 5 Lets his foul run for nought , as little fearing : Were I an Epicure , I could bate fwearing . When thou doft tell anothers jeft , therein Omit the oaths , which ...
... pleasure , avarice gain : But the cheap fwearer through his open fluce 5 Lets his foul run for nought , as little fearing : Were I an Epicure , I could bate fwearing . When thou doft tell anothers jeft , therein Omit the oaths , which ...
Side 5
... pleasures becken us to thrall . Who breaks his own bond , forfeiteth himself : What nature made a ship , he makes a shelf . Do all things like a man , not sneakingly : Think the king fees thee ftill ; for his King does . impring is but ...
... pleasures becken us to thrall . Who breaks his own bond , forfeiteth himself : What nature made a ship , he makes a shelf . Do all things like a man , not sneakingly : Think the king fees thee ftill ; for his King does . impring is but ...
Side 7
... pleasure , kind of thing that's for it felf too dear . The curious unthrift makes his clothes too wide , And fpares himself , but would his taylor chide . end not on hopes . They that by pleading clothes fortunes feek , when worth and ...
... pleasure , kind of thing that's for it felf too dear . The curious unthrift makes his clothes too wide , And fpares himself , but would his taylor chide . end not on hopes . They that by pleading clothes fortunes feek , when worth and ...
Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
alfo beafts Becauſe beft beſt bleffed bloud canft Chrift Chriftians Church dear death defire delight didft doth dreft duft earth elfe ev'n ev'ry eyes fafely faft faid fame fear feek feem felves ferve fev'ral fhall fhame fhew fhine fhould fide figh filks fince fing firft fleep fleſh flow'rs fome forrow foul fpring ftand ftars ftill ftones fuch fure fweet glory Gods grace grief grone hand hath heart heaven himſelf holy Holy Orders honour houfe joyes King lefs loft Lord meaſure mirth moft moſt mufick muft muſt paffion pafs pleaſure pofie poor praife prefent raiſe reft rife rofe Saviour ſay ſhall skie ſtay ſweet tears thee thefe theſe thine things thofe thoſe thou art thou canst thou didst thou doft thou haft thou wilt thoughts thy felf thy praiſe treaſure unto uſe vertue whofe wind
Populære avsnitt
Side 91 - Each creature hath a wisdom for his good. The pigeons feed their tender offspring crying, When they are callow ; but withdraw their food, When they are fledged, that need may teach them flying.
Side 78 - For us, the winds do blow, The earth doth rest, heaven move, and fountains flow; Nothing we see, but means our good, As our delight, or as our treasure; The whole is either our cupboard of food, Or cabinet of pleasure.
Side 91 - 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...
Side 74 - 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.
Side 150 - Into thy face, Thou art grown fair and full of grace, Much in request, much sought for as a good. For we do now behold thee gay and glad, As at doomsday, When souls shall wear their new array, And all thy bones with beauty shall be clad.
Side 149 - Will not grow bright and clean. A servant with this clause Makes drudgery divine: Who sweeps a room, as for Thy laws, Makes that and the action fine. This is the famous stone That turneth all to gold : For that which God doth touch and own Cannot for less be told.
Side 119 - The Collar I struck the board, and cry'd, No more. I will abroad. What? shall I ever sigh and pine? My lines and life are free; free as the rode, Loose as the winde, as large as store. Shall I be still in suit? Have I no harvest but a thorn To let me bloud, and not restore What I have lost with cordiall fruit? Sure there was wine...
Side 24 - I straight return'd, and, knowing his great birth, Sought him accordingly in great resorts ; In cities, theatres, gardens, parks, and courts : At length I heard a ragged noise and mirth Of theeves and murderers : there I him espied, "Who straight Your suit is granted, said, and died.
Side 130 - The late-past frosts tributes of pleasure bring. Grief melts away Like snow in May, As if there were no such cold thing. Who would have thought my shrivelled heart Could have recovered greenness?