46 Quotes by Henry Vaughan

Prayer is The world in tune, A spirit-voyce, And vocall joyes, Whose Eccho is heaven's blisse.

Sure thou did'st nourish once! and many springs, Many bright mornings, much dew, many showers, Passed o'er thy head; many light hearts and wings, Which now are dead, lodg'd in thy living bowers. And still a new succession sings and flies; Fresh groves grow up, and their green branches shoot Towards the old and still-enduring skies; While the low violet thrives at their root.

Man is the shuttle, to whose winding quest And passage through these looms God ordered motion, but ordained no rest.

Early, as well as late, Rise with the sun, and set in the same bowers

For each inclosed spirit is a star Enlightening his own little sphere

Should poor souls fear a shade or night, Who came sure from a sea of light? Or since those drops are all sent back So sure to thee, that none doth lack, Why should frail flesh doubt any more That what God takes, He'll not restore?

A ward, and still in bonds, one day I stole abroad; It was high spring, and all the way Primrosed and hung with shade; Yet was it frost within, And surly winds Blasted my infant buds, and sin Like clouds eclipsed my mind.

Some syllables are swords.

Affliction is a mother, Whose painful throes yield many sons, Each fairer than the other.