242
Tixall Poetry.
The soul's rough file that smoothness does impart!
That hammer that does break a stony heart!
The worm that never dies! the thorn within,
That pricks and pains; the whip and scourge of sin:
The voice of God in man! which, without rest,
Doth softly cry within a troubled breast;
To all temptations is that soul left free
That makes not to itself a curb of thee!
That hammer that does break a stony heart!
The worm that never dies! the thorn within,
That pricks and pains; the whip and scourge of sin:
The voice of God in man! which, without rest,
Doth softly cry within a troubled breast;
To all temptations is that soul left free
That makes not to itself a curb of thee!
A Pastoral Protest of Love,
by
Damon to Stella.
When I thee all o'er do view,
I all o'er must love thee too.
By that smooth forehead, where's exprest
The candour of thy purer breast;
By those twin-like stars that shine,
By those apples of thine eyn;
I all o'er must love thee too.
By that smooth forehead, where's exprest
The candour of thy purer breast;
By those twin-like stars that shine,
By those apples of thine eyn;
