Elegies and Epitaphs, 1677-1717

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James Frothingham Hunnewell
Club of Odd Volumes, 1896 - 82 páginas

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Página 34 - His preaching much, but more his practice wrought; (A living sermon of the truths he taught); For this by rules severe his life he squared, That all might see the doctrine which they heard.
Página 16 - Remember them which have the rule over you, who have spoken unto you the word of God: whose faith follow, considering the end of their conversation : 8 Jesus Christ the same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever.
Página 16 - Your fathers, where are they? and the prophets, do they live for ever?
Página 16 - Monopoly were mine: All would be much too low, too light, too poor, To pay due tribute to this great Divine. Ah! Wit avails not, when th' Heart's like to break, Great griefs are Tongue-ti'ed, when the lesser speak.
Página 16 - Art, Nature, Grace, in Him were all combin'd To shew the World a matchless Paragon: In whom of Radiant Virtues no less shin'd, Than a whole Constellation: but hee's gone! Hee's gone alas! Down in the Dust must ly As much of this rare Person as could dy.
Página 16 - twas God that took him thus, To give him great Reward, and punish us.) [34] Zealous in God's cause, but meek in his own; Modest of Nature, bold as any Lion, Where Conscience was concern'd: and there were none More constant Mourners for afflicted Sion: So gene'ral was his care for th'Churches all, His Spirit seemed Apostolical.
Página 16 - New-England! know thy Heart-plague: feel this blow; A blow that sorely wounds both Head and Heart, A blow that reaches All, both high and low, A blow that may be felt in every part. Mourn that this Great Man's fain in Israel: Lest it be said, with him New-England fell!
Página 16 - Soveraign strive, Who dare find fault with him that is most High? That hath an absolute Prerogative, And doth his pleasure: none may ask him, why? We're Clay-lumps, Dust-heaps, nothings in his sight: The Judge of all the Earth doth always right.
Página 35 - A ustin wept, when he saw Dido dead, Tho' not a Tear for a Lost Soul he had: Our Master would not let us be so vain, But us from Virgil did to David train, Textors Epistles would not Cloathe our Souls; Pauls too we heard; we went to School at Pauls.
Página 16 - To be descended well, doth that commend? Can Sons their Fathers Glory call their own? Our Shepard justly might to this pretend, (His Blessed Father was of high Renown, Both Englands speak him great, admire his Name) But his own pers'onal worth's a better claim.

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