The Country Parson ; The Temple

Forside
Paulist Press, 1981 - 354 sider
the publishers should be congratulated for their newest...event. By making sixty of the greatest spiritual classics easily available in their new series, they have done much to further the spiritual renewal of the Church. The Christian World GEORGE HERBERT-THE COUNTRY PARSON, THE TEMPLE edited, with an introduction and foreword by John N. Wall, Jr. preface by A.M. Allchin The Sun arising in the East, Though he give light, and th' East perfume; If they should offer to contest With thy arising, they presume. George Herbert (1593-1633) George Herbert (1593-1633) lived in England during the tempestuous reigns of James I and Charles I that saw the nation racked by conflict among Catholics, Hugh Churchmen, and Puritans. A member of a politically-active family, Herbert rejected a promising career as a member of Parliament for the simple life of a country parson. While busily involved in his pastoral duties he produced works of poetry and prose that have earned him a long-established place in English literary history. Collected here are two works originally published after Herbert's death at Bemerton in 1633: The Country Parson, a prose treatise on the duties, joys, and hardships of a pastor's life; and The Temple, a collection of poems. In them the literary genius of this humble priest whose spirituality was a synthesis of Evangelical and Catholic piety is revealed. Herbert's appeal for today is summed up by A.M. Allchin in his preface to this volume: Without glossing over the fragility and brokenness of man's experience of life in time, he managed to reaffirm the great unities of Christian faith and prayer. These are the unities which draw together the separated strands in the Christian heritage, which draw together past and present in a living an creative appropriation of tradition. +

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Innhold

INTRODUCTION
1
A PRIEST TO THE TEMPLE OR THE COUNTRY PARSON HIS CHARACTER AND RULE OF HOLY LIFE
53
THE TEMPLE SACRED POEMS AND PRIVATE EJACULATIONS
117
THE DEDICATION
119
THE CHURCH PORCH
121
THE CHURCH
139
THE CHURCH MILITANT
317
POEMS NOT INCLUDED IN THE TEMPLE
327
BIBLIOGRAPHY
335
INDEXES
341
TEXTS AND SCRIPTURE
345
POEMS
352
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Side 301 - For we are unto God a sweet savour of Christ, in them that are saved, and in them that perish : to the one we are the savour of death unto death ; and to the other the savour of life unto life.
Side 45 - I the unkind, ungrateful ? Ah, my dear, I cannot look on thee. Love took my hand, and smiling did reply, Who made the eyes but I \ Truth, Lord, but I have marr'd them : let my shame Go where it doth deserve. And know you not, says Love, who bore the blame \ My dear, then I will serve. You must sit down, says Love, and taste my meat : So I did sit and eat.
Side 121 - I am not worthy of the least of all the mercies, and of all the truth, which thou hast shewed unto thy servant; for with my staff I passed over this Jordan, and now I am become two bands.
Side 55 - Having then gifts differing according to the grace that is given to us: whether prophecy, let us prophesy according to the proportion of faith; or ministry, let us wait on our ministering; or he that teacheth, on teaching; or he that exhorteth, on exhortation. He that giveth, let him do it with simplicity; ,he that ruleth, with diligence; he that sheweth mercy, with cheerfulness.
Side 114 - Gird thy sword upon thy thigh, O most Mighty, with thy glory and thy majesty. And in thy majesty ride prosperously, because of truth and meekness and righteousness; and thy right hand shall teach thee terrible things.
Side 210 - 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 206 - 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. Only a sweet and virtuous soul, Like...

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