A Hymn to God the Father
WILT Thou forgive that sin where I begun, Which was my sin, though it were done before?
Poetry, expressions and stories, with their sources and authors.
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WILT Thou forgive that sin where I begun, Which was my sin, though it were done before?
DEATH, be not proud, though some have callèd thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so:
GATHER ye rosebuds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying:
SWEET western wind, whose luck it is, Made rival with the air,
I DARE not ask a kiss, I dare not beg a smile,
WELCOME, maids of honour! You do bring
FAIR daffodils, we weep to see You haste away so soon;
FAIR pledges of a fruitful tree, Why do ye fall so fast?
ASK me why I send you here This sweet Infanta of the year?
THE Rose was sick and smiling died; And, being to be sanctified,
CHERRY-ripe, ripe, ripe, I cry, Full and fair ones; come and buy.
YOU are a tulip seen to-day, But, dearest, of so short a stay
A SWEET disorder in the dress Kindles in clothes a wantonness:
SWEET day, so cool, so calm, so bright! The bridal of the earth and sky—
I GOT me flowers to straw Thy way, I got me boughs off many a tree;
THROW away Thy rod, Throw away Thy wrath;
Man. Sweetest Saviour, if my soul Were but worth the having,
WHEN God at first made Man, Having a glass of blessings standing by—
LOVE bade me welcome; yet my soul drew back, Guilty of dust and sin.
FLY envious Time, till thou run out thy race, Call on the lazy leaden-stepping hours,
BLEST pair of Sirens, pledges of Heav’ns joy, Sphear-born harmonious Sisters, Voice, and Vers,
O’re the smooth enameld green Where no print of step hath been,
THE Star that bids the Shepherd fold, Now the top of Heav’n doth hold,
SWEET Echo, sweetest Nymph that liv’st unseen Within thy airy shell