Henry Vaughan
Henry Vaughan
Henry Vaughanwas a Welsh author, physician and metaphysical poet...
NationalityWelsh
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth17 April 1622
prayer night heaven
Dear Night! this world's defeat; The stop to busy fools; care's check and curb; The day of spirits; my soul's calm retreat Which none disturb! Christ's progress, and His prayer-time; The hours to which high Heaven cloth chime.
fear night sea
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?
night light saws
I saw Eternity the other night Like a great ring of pure and endless light, All calm as it was bright.
night men darkness
There is in God - some say - A deep, but dazzling darkness; as men here Say it is late and dusky, because they See not all clear. O for that Night! where I in Him Might live invisible and dim!
caesar rescued
Caesar had perished from the world of men, had not his sword been rescued by his pen.
men darkness triumph
Death, and darkness get you packing, Nothing now to man is lacking, All your triumphs now are ended, And what Adam marred, is mended.
views soil young
Still young and fine! but what is still in view We slight as old and soil'd, though fresh and new.
lying dark men
Dear, beauteous death, the jewel of the just! Shining nowhere but in the dark; What mysteries do lie beyond thy dust, Could man outlook that mark!
angel men self
Dear, harmless age! the short, swift span Where weeping Virtue parts with man; Where love without lust dwells, and bends What way we please without self-ends. An age of mysteries! which he Must live that would God's face see Which angels guard, and with it play, Angels! which foul men drive away.
country military being-true
To God, thy country, and thy friend be true.
mean writing doors
Holy writing must strive (by all means) for perfection and true holiness, that a door may be opened to him in heaven.
fire soul common
I played with fire, did counsel spurn, Made life my common stake; But never thought that fire would burn, O that a soul could ache.
moving fall men
Some men a forward motion love, But I by backward steps would move, And when this dust falls to the urn In that state I came, return.
immortality felt
But felt through all this fleshly dresse Bright shootes of everlastingnesse.