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The Praise Of A Religious Life By Mathias Casimirus (epodon Ode Iii)

IN ANSWER TO THAT ODE OF HORACE, BEATUS ILLE QUI PROCUL NEGOTIIS, &c. Flaccus, not so! that worldly he Whom in the country's shade we see Ploughing his own fields, seldom can Be justly styl'd the blessed man. That title only fits a saint, Whose free thoughts, far above restraint And weighty cares, can gladly part With house and lands, and leave the smart, Litigious troubles and loud strife... Poems - Post by : porscheone - Date : October 2011 - Author : Henry Vaughan - Read : 3101

Casimirus, (lyricorum) Lib. Iv. Ode Xiii

If weeping eyes could wash away Those evils they mourn for night and day, Then gladly I to cure my fears With my best jewels would buy tears. But as dew feeds the growing corn, So crosses that are grown forlorn Increase with grief, tears make tears' way, And cares kept up keep cares in pay. That wretch whom Fortune finds to fear, And melting still into a tear, She strikes... Poems - Post by : holmes9 - Date : October 2011 - Author : Henry Vaughan - Read : 2129

Casimirus, (lyricorum) Lib. Iv. Ode Xv

Nothing on earth, nothing at all Can be exempted from the thrall Of peevish weariness! The sun, Which our forefathers judg'd to run Clear and unspotted, in our days Is tax'd with sullen eclips'd rays. Whatever in the glorious sky Man sees, his rash audacious eye Dares censure it, and in mere spite At distance will condemn the light. The wholesome mornings, whose beams clear Those hills our... Poems - Post by : 60078 - Date : October 2011 - Author : Henry Vaughan - Read : 946

Casimirus, (lyricorum) Lib. Iii. Ode Xxiii

'Tis not rich furniture and gems, With cedar roofs and ancient stems, Nor yet a plenteous, lasting flood Of gold, that makes man truly good. Leave to inquire in what fair fields A river runs which much gold yields; Virtue alone is the rich prize Can purchase stars, and buy the skies. Let others build with adamant, Or pillars of carv'd marble plant, Which rude and rough sometimes did dwell... Poems - Post by : sbtrue100 - Date : October 2011 - Author : Henry Vaughan - Read : 3373

Casimirus, (lyricorum) Lib. Iii. Ode Xxii

Let not thy youth and false delights Cheat thee of life; those heady flights But waste thy time, which posts away Like winds unseen, and swift as they. Beauty is but mere paint, whose dye With Time's breath will dissolve and fly; 'Tis wax, 'tis water, 'tis a glass, It melts, breaks, and away doth pass. 'Tis like a rose which in the dawn The air with gentle breath doth fawn... Poems - Post by : bucky - Date : October 2011 - Author : Henry Vaughan - Read : 1843

Casimirus, (lyricorum) Lib. Ii. Ode Vii

It would less vex distressed man If Fortune in the same pace ran To ruin him, as he did rise. But highest States fall in a trice; No great success held ever long; A restless fate afflicts the throng Of kings and commons, and less days Serve to destroy them than to raise. Good luck smiles once an age, but bad Makes kingdoms in a minute sad, And ev'ry hour of... Poems - Post by : galitsyn - Date : October 2011 - Author : Henry Vaughan - Read : 1616

Casimirus, (lyricorum) Lib. Iv. Ode Xxviii

Almighty Spirit! Thou that by Set turns and changes from Thy high And glorious throne dost here below Rule all, and all things dost foreknow! Can those blind plots we here discuss Please Thee, as Thy wise counsels us? When Thou Thy blessings here doth strow, And pour on earth, we flock and flow, With joyous strife and eager care, Struggling which shall have the best share In Thy rich gifts,... Poems - Post by : stillsmuth - Date : October 2011 - Author : Henry Vaughan - Read : 3132

Boethius, De Consolatione)

LIB. I. METRUM I. I whose first year flourish'd with youthful verse, In slow, sad numbers now my grief rehearse. A broken style my sickly lines afford, And only tears give weight unto my words. Yet neither fate nor force my Muse could fright, The only faithful consort of my flight. Thus what was once my green years' greatest glory, Is now my comfort, grown decay'd and hoary; For killing cares th' effects of... Poems - Post by : techcrafters - Date : October 2011 - Author : Henry Vaughan - Read : 2611

Cupido (cruci Affixus)

Ausonii. Idyll VI In those bless'd fields of everlasting air --Where to a myrtle grove the souls repair Of deceas'd lovers--the sad, thoughtful ghosts Of injur'd ladies meet each accosts The other with a sigh, whose very breath Would break a heart, and--kind souls--love in death. A thick wood clouds their walks day scarce peeps, And on each hand cypress and poppy sleeps; The drowsy rivers slumber, and springs there... Poems - Post by : Dirk_Wagner - Date : October 2011 - Author : Henry Vaughan - Read : 951

To His Wife At Rome, When He Was Sick

(Ovid,) Tristium, Lib. III. Eleg. III Dearest! if you those fair eyes--wond'ring--stick On this strange character, know I am sick; Sick in the skirts of the lost world I Breathe hopeless of all comforts, but to die. What heart--think'st thou?--have I in this sad seat, Tormented 'twixt the Sauromate and Gete? Nor air nor water please: their very sky Looks strange and unaccustom'd to my eye; I scarce dare breathe it, and, I... Poems - Post by : PharmacyGirl - Date : October 2011 - Author : Henry Vaughan - Read : 3483

To His Friends--after His Many Solicitations--refusing To Petition Caesar...

(Ovid, Epistolarum) De Ponto, Lib. III. (epist. VII.)To His Friends--After His Many Solicitations--Refusing To Petition Caesar Or His Releasement You have consum'd my language, and my pen, Incens'd with begging, scorns to write again. You grant, you knew my suit: my Muse and I Had taught it you in frequent elegy. That I believe--yet seal'd--you have divin'd Our repetitions, and forestall'd my mind, So that my thronging elegies and I Have made you--more than poets--prophesy.... Poems - Post by : dburdon - Date : October 2011 - Author : Henry Vaughan - Read : 3235

To His Inconstant Friend, Translated For The Use Of All The Judases Of This Touc

(Ovid, Epistolarum) De Ponto, Lib. IV. Epist. IIITo His Inconstant Friend, Translated For The Use Of All The Judases Of This Touchstone-Age.Shall I complain, or not? or shall I mask Thy hateful name, and in this bitter task Master my just impatience, and write down Thy crime alone, and leave the rest unknown? Or wilt thou the succeeding years should see And teach thy person to posterity? No, hope it not; for know, most wretched man, 'Tis not thy base... Poems - Post by : Werner - Date : October 2011 - Author : Henry Vaughan - Read : 2098

To His Fellow-poets At Rome, Upon The Birthday Of Bacchus

(Ovid,) Tristium, Lib. V. Eleg. III.This is the day--blithe god of sack--which we, If I mistake not, consecrate to thee, When the soft rose we marry to the bays, And, warm'd with thy own wine, rehearse thy praise; 'Mongst whom--while to thy poet fate gave way-- I have been held no small part of the day. But now, dull'd with the cold Bear's frozen seat, Sarmatia holds me, and the warlike Gete. My former life, unlike to... Poems - Post by : ptrferdinand - Date : October 2011 - Author : Henry Vaughan - Read : 858

To Sir William D'avenant Upon His Gondibert

Well, we are rescued! and by thy rare pen Poets shall live, when princes die like men. Th' hast clear'd the prospect to our harmless hill, Of late years clouded with imputed ill, And the soft, youthful couples there may move, As chaste as stars converse and smile above. Th' hast taught their language and their love to flow Calm as rose-leaves, and cool as virgin-snow, Which doubly feasts us, being so refin'd, They... Poems - Post by : Antonio85 - Date : October 2011 - Author : Henry Vaughan - Read : 3457

An Epitaph Upon The Lady Elizabeth, Second Daughter To His Late Majesty

Youth, beauty, virtue, innocence, Heav'n's royal and select expense, With virgin-tears and sighs divine Sit here the genii of this shrine; Where now--thy fair soul wing'd away-- They guard the casket where she lay. Thou hadst, ere thou the light couldst see, Sorrows laid up and stor'd for thee; Thou suck'dst in woes, and the breasts lent Their milk to thee but to lament; Thy portion here was grief,... Poems - Post by : freeman - Date : October 2011 - Author : Henry Vaughan - Read : 3373

To The Most Excellently Accomplished Mrs. K. Philips

Say, witty fair one, from what sphere Flow these rich numbers you shed here? For sure such incantations come From thence, which strike your readers dumb. A strain, whose measures gently meet Like virgin-lovers or Time's feet; Where language smiles, and accents rise As quick and pleasing as your eyes; The poem smooth, and in each line Soft as yourself, yet masculine; Where not coarse trifles blot the page... Poems - Post by : phx8549 - Date : October 2011 - Author : Henry Vaughan - Read : 3379

To My Worthy Friend, Master T. Lewes

Sees not my friend, what a deep snow Candies our country's woody brow? The yielding branch his load scarce bears, Oppress'd with snow and frozen tears; While the dumb rivers slowly float, All bound up in an icy coat. Let us meet then! and while this world In wild eccentrics now is hurl'd, Keep we, like nature, the same key, And walk in our forefathers' way. Why any more... Poems - Post by : bizowner - Date : October 2011 - Author : Henry Vaughan - Read : 1468

To Mr. T. Powell, Upon His Translation Of Malvezzi's Christian Politician

To My Learned Friend, Mr. T. Powell, Upon His Translation Of Malvezzi's Christian Politician.We thank you, worthy Sir, that now we see MALVEZZI languag'd like our infancy, And can without suspicion entertain This foreign statesman to our breast or brain; You have enlarg'd his praise, and from your store By this edition made his worth the more. Thus by your learned hand--amidst the coil-- Outlandish plants thrive in our thankless soil, And wise men after death, by... Poems - Post by : margitharpe - Date : October 2011 - Author : Henry Vaughan - Read : 1411

$An Elegy On The Death Of Mr. R. Hall, Slain At Pontefract, 1648$ An Elegy On The Death Of Mr. R. Hall, Slain At Pontefract, 1648

$An Elegy On The Death Of Mr. R. Hall, Slain At Pontefract, 1648$

I knew it would be thus! and my just fears Of thy great spirit are improv'd to tears. Yet flow these not from any base distrust Of a fair name, or that thy honour must Confin'd to those cold relics sadly sit In the same cell an obscure anchorite. Such low distempers murder; they that must Abuse thee so, weep not, but wound thy dust. But I past such dim mourners can descry... Poems - Post by : Fabio_Marciano - Date : October 2011 - Author : Henry Vaughan - Read : 1550

To The Best And Most Accomplished Couple----

Blessings as rich and fragrant crown your heads As the mild heav'n on roses sheds, When at their cheeks--like pearls--they wear The clouds that court them in a tear! And may they be fed from above By Him which first ordain'd your love! Fresh as the hours may all your pleasures be, And healthful as eternity!... Poems - Post by : Gamble - Date : October 2011 - Author : Henry Vaughan - Read : 1970

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