Quotes
"If we had no Winter, the spring would not be so pleasant; If we did not sometimes taste the adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome."
"If ever two were one, then surely we. If ever man were loved by wife, then thee."
"If what I do prove well, it won't advance. They'll say it's stolen, or else it was by chance. "
"Let Greeks be Greeks, and women what they are. "
"Authority without wisdom is like a heavy axe without an edge, fitter to bruise than polish."

 

All things within this fading world hath end, Adversity doth still our joys attend; No ties so strong, no friends so dear and sweet, But with death's parting blow is sure to meet. The sentence past is most irrevocable, A common thing, yet oh, inevitable. How soon, my Dear, death may my steps attend. How soon't may be thy lot to lose thy friend, We both are ignorant, yet love bids me These farewell lines to recommend to thee, That when that knot's untied that made us one, I may seem thine, who in effect am none. And if I see not half my days that's due, What nature would, God grant to yours and you; The many faults that well you know I have Let be interred in my oblivious grave; If any worth or virtue were in me, Let that live freshly in thy memory And when thou feel'st no grief, as I no harms, Yet love thy dead, who long lay in thine arms. And when thy loss shall be repaid with gains Look to my little babes, my dear remains. And if thou love thyself, or loved'st me, These O protect from step-dame's injury. And if chance to thine eyes shall bring this verse, With some sad sighs honour my absent hearse; And kiss this paper for thy love's dear sake, Who with salt tears this last farewell did take.

 

Worthy art Thou, O Lord, of praise, But ah! It's not in me. My sinking heart I pray Thee raise So shall I give it Thee.

My life as spider’s webb’s cut off, Thus fainting have I said, And living man no more shall see But be in silence laid.

My feeble spirit Thou didst revive, My doubting Thou didst chide, And though as dead mad’st me alive, I here a while might ‘bide.

Why should I live but to Thy praise? My life is hid with Thee. O Lord, no longer be my days Than I may fruitful be.

 

 

1

By night when others soundly slept, And had at once both case and rest, My waking eyes were open kept And so to lie I found it best.

2

I sought Him whom my soul did love, With tears I sought Him earnestly; He bowed His ear down from above. In vain I did not seek or cry.

3

My hungry soul He filled with good, He in His bottle put my tears, My smarting wounds washed in His blood, And banished thence my doubts and fears.

4

What to my Savior shall I give, Who freely hath done this for me? I’ll serve Him here whilst I shall live And love Him to eternity.

 

O Lord, Thou hear'st my daily moan And see'st my dropping tears. My troubles all are Thee before, My longings and my fears.

Thou hitherto hast been my God; Thy help my soul hath found. Though loss and sickness me assailed, Through Thee I’ve kept my ground.

And Thy abode Thou’st made with me; With Thee my soul can talk; In secret places Thee I find Where I do kneel or walk.

Though husband dear be from me gone, Whom I do love so well, I have a more beloved one Whose comforts far excel.

O stay my heart on Thee. my God, Uphold my fainting soul. And when I know not what to do, I’ll on Thy mercies roll.

My weakness. Thou dost know full well Of body and of mind; I in this world no comfort have, But what from Thee I find.

Though children Thou has given me, And friends I have also, Yet if I see Thee not through them They are no joy, but woe.

O shine upon me, blessed Lord, Ev’n for my Saviour’s sake; In Thee alone is more than all, And there content I’ll take.

O hear me, Lord, in this request As Thou before hast done, Bring back my husband, I beseech, As Thou didst once my son.

So shall I celebrate Thy praise Ev’n while my days shall last And talk to my beloved one Of all Thy goodness past.

So both of us Thy kindness, Lord, With praises shall recount And serve Thee better than before Whose blessings thus surmount.

But give me, Lord, a better heart, Then better shall I be, To pay the vows which I do owe Forever unto Thee.

Unless Thou help, what can I do But still my frailty show? If Thou assist me, Lord, I shall Return Thee what I owe.

What shall I render to Thy name Or how Thy praises speak? My thanks how shall I testify? O Lord, Thou know'st I'm weak.

I owe so much, so little can Return unto Thy name, Confusion seizes on my soul, And I am filled with shame.

O Thou that hearest prayers, Lord, To Thee shall come all flesh Thou hast me heard and answered, My plaints have had access.

What did I ask for but Thou gav’st? What could I more desire? But thankfulness even all my days I humbly this require.

Thy mercies, Lord, have been so great In number numberless, Impossible for to recount Or any way express.

O help Thy saints that sought Thy face T’ return unto Thee praise And walk before Thee as they ought, In strict and upright ways.

As he said vanity, so vain say I, Oh! Vanity, O vain all under sky; Where is the man can say, "Lo, I have found On brittle earth a consolation sound"? What isn't in honor to be set on high? No, they like beasts and sons of men shall die, And while they live, how oft does turn their fate; He's now a captive that was king of late. What isn't in wealth great treasures to obtain? No, that's but labor, anxious care, and pain. He heaps up riches, and he heaps up sorrow, It's his today, but who's his heir tomorrow? What then? Content in pleasures can you find? More vain than all, that's but to grasp the wind. The sensual senses for a time they pleasure, Meanwhile the conscience rage, who shall appease? What isn't in beauty? No that's but a snare, They're foul enough today, that once were fair. What is it in flowering youth, or manly age? The first is prone to vice, the last to rage. Where is it then, in wisdom, learning, arts? Sure if on earth, it must be in those parts; Yet these the wisest man of men did find But vanity, vexation of the mind. And he that knows the most does still bemoan He knows not all that here is to be known. What is it then? To do as stoics tell, Nor laugh, nor weep, let things go ill or well? Such stoics are but stocks, such teaching vain, While man is man, he shall have ease or pain. If not in honor, beauty, age, nor treasure, Nor yet in learning, wisdom, youth, nor pleasure, Where shall I climb, sound, seek, search, or find That summum bonum which may stay my mind? There is a path no vulture's eye has seen, Where lion fierce, nor lion's whelps have been, Which leads unto that living crystal fount, Who drinks thereof, the world does naught account. The depth and sea have said "tis not in me," With pearl and gold it shall not valued be. For sapphire, onyx, topaz who would change; It's hid from eyes of men, they count it strange. Death and destruction the fame has heard, But where and what it is, from heaven's declared; It brings to honor which shall never decay, It stores with wealth which time can't wear away. It yields pleasures far beyond conceit, And truly beautifies without deceit. Nor strength, nor wisdom, nor fresh youth shall fade, Nor death shall see, but are immortal made. This pearl of price, this tree of life, this spring, Who is possessed of shall reign a king. Nor change of state nor cares shall ever see, But wear his crown unto eternity. This satiates the soul, this stays the mind, And all the rest, but vanity we find.

In my distress I sought the Lord When naught on earth could comfort give, And when my soul these things abhorred, Then, Lord, Thou said'st unto me, "Live."

Thou knowest the sorrows that I felt; My plaints and groans were heard of Thee, And how in sweat I seemed to melt Thou help’st and Thou regardest me.

My wasted flesh Thou didst restore, My feeble loins didst gird with strength, Yea, when I was most low and poor, I said I shall praise Thee at length.

What shall I render to my God For all His bounty showed to me? Even for His mercies in His rod, Where pity most of all I see.

My heart I wholly give to Thee; O make it fruitful, faithful Lord. My life shall dedicated be To praise in thought, in deed, in word.

Thou know’st no life I did require Longer than still Thy name to praise, Nor ought on earth worthy desire, In drawing out these wretched days.

Thy name and praise to celebrate, O Lord, for aye is my request. O grant I do it in this state, And then with Thee, which is the best.