George Herbert: Всі вірші поета

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Love

Immortal Love, authour of this great frame,

Sprung from that beautie which can never fade;

How hath man parcel'd out thy glorious name,

And thrown it on that dust which thou hast made,

While mortall love doth all the title gain!

Which siding with invention, they together

Bear all the sway, possessing heart and brain,

by George Herbert

Peace

Sweet Peace, where dost thou dwell? I humbly crave,

Let me once know.

I sought thee in a secret cave,

And ask'd, if Peace were there,

A hollow winde did seem to answer, No:

Go seek elsewhere.

I did; and going did a rainbow note:

Surely, thought I,

by George Herbert

Virtue

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.

by George Herbert

Jordan

Who sayes that fictions onely and false hair

Become a verse? Is there in truth no beautie?

Is all good structure in a winding stair?

May no lines passe, except they do their dutie

Not to a true, but painted chair?

Is it not verse, except enchanted groves

And sudden arbours shadow coarse-spunne lines?

Must purling streams refresh a lover's loves?

by George Herbert

Heaven

O who will show me those delights on high?

Echo. I.

Thou Echo, thou art mortall, all men know.

Echo. No.

Wert thou not born among the trees and leaves?

by George Herbert

The Collar

I struck the board, and cry'd, No more;

I will abroad.

What? shall I ever sigh and pine?

My lines and life are free; free as the rode,

Loose as the winde, as large as store.

Shall I be still in suit?

Have I no harvest but a thorn

To let me bloud, and not restore

by George Herbert

Sinne's Round

Sorrie I am, my God, sorrie I am,

That my offences course it in a ring.

My thoughts are working like a busie flame,

Untill their cockatrice they hatch and bring:

And when they once have perfected their draughts,

My words take fire from my inflamed thoughts.

My words take fire from my inflamed thoughts,

Which spit it forth like the Sicilian hill.

by George Herbert

Love (III)

Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back,

Guiltie of dust and sinne.

But quick-ey'd Love, observing me grow slack

From my first entrance in,

Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning,

If I lack'd anything.

A guest, I answer'd, worthy to be here:

Love said, You shall be he.

by George Herbert

Jordan (II)

When first my lines of heav'nly joyes made mention,

Such was their lustre, they did so excell,

That I sought out quaint words and trim invention;

My thoughts began to burnish, sprout, and swell,

Curling with metaphors a plain intention,

Decking the sense, as if it were to sell.

Thousands of notions in my brain did runne,

Off'ring their service, if I were not sped:

by George Herbert

Paradise

I BLESSE thee, Lord, because I G R O W

Among thy trees, which in a R O W

To thee both fruit and order O W.

What open force, or hidden C H A R M

Can blast my fruit, or bring me H A R M

While the inclosure is thine A R M?

Inclose me still for fear I S T A R T.

Be to me rather sharp and T A R T,

by George Herbert

A Wreath

A wreathed garland of deserved praise,

Of praise deserved, unto thee I give,

I give to thee, who knowest all my wayes,

My crooked winding wayes, wherein I live,

Wherein I die, not live : for life is straight,

Straight as a line, and ever tends to thee,

To thee, who art more farre above deceit,

Then deceit seems above simplicitie.

by George Herbert

The Pulley

When God at first made man,

Having a glasse of blessings standing by;

Let us (said he) poure on him all we can:

Let the world's riches, which dispersed lie,

Contract into a span.

So strength first made a way;

Then beautie flow'd, then wisdome, honour, pleasure;

When almost all was out, God made a stay,

by George Herbert