Church poetry : or, Christian thoughts in old and modern verse . eagles are,Or like the fresh springs gaudy hue,Or silver drops of morning dew ;Or like a wind that chafes the flood,Or bubble which on water stood,Een such is man, whose borrowed lightIs straight called in and paid to-night. The wind blows out, the bubble dies,The spring entombed in autumn lies ;The stream dries up, the star is shot,The flight is past and man forgot. TIME. Jasper Mayne. Time is the featherd thing,And whilst I praise The sparklings of thy locks, and call them rays,Takes wing— LIFE AND TIME. Leaving behind him, as


Church poetry : or, Christian thoughts in old and modern verse . eagles are,Or like the fresh springs gaudy hue,Or silver drops of morning dew ;Or like a wind that chafes the flood,Or bubble which on water stood,Een such is man, whose borrowed lightIs straight called in and paid to-night. The wind blows out, the bubble dies,The spring entombed in autumn lies ;The stream dries up, the star is shot,The flight is past and man forgot. TIME. Jasper Mayne. Time is the featherd thing,And whilst I praise The sparklings of thy locks, and call them rays,Takes wing— LIFE AND TIME. Leaving behind him, as he flies, An unperceived dimness in thine eyes. His minutes, whilst theyre told, Do make us old ; And every sand of his fleet glass, Increasing age as it doth pass, Insensibly sows wrinkles there, Where flowers and roses do appear. AVhilst we do speak, our fire Doth into ice expire ; Flames turn to frost; and ere we can Know how our cheek turns pale and wan, Or how a silver snow Springs there where jet did grow, Our fading spring is in dull winter lost. 243. 244 LIFE AND TIME. mans flitting life finds surest stay,where sacred virtue beareth sway. Anonymous. The sturdy rock for all his strength,By raging seas is rent in twain ;The marble stone is pierced at length With little drops of drizzling ox doth yield unto the yoke,The steel obeyth the hammer stroke. Yea, man himself, unto whose willAll things are bounden to obey,For all his wit and worthy skill Doth fade at length, and fall is no thing, but time doth waste :The heavens, the earth consume at last. But virtue sits triumphing stillUpon the throne of glorious Fame ;Though spiteful death mans body kill,Yet hurts he not his virtuous life or death, whatso betides,The state of virtue never slides. LIFE AND TIME. 245 NOTHINGNESS OF MATTER. Lyra In Childhood, when with eager eyes,The season-measured year I viewed,All garbed in fairy guise,Pledged constancy of good. Spring sang of heaven


Size: 1610px × 1551px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No

Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1840, booksubjectreligio, bookyear1848