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Page 145

CHAPTER VIII
PURITANS AND CAVALIERS II

Vaughan loves nature, and his Bird is as tender as it is strong. One might fancy that it was Robert Burns himself who speaks :
Hither thou com'st. The busie wind all night
Blew through thy lodging, where thy own warm wing
Thy pillow was. Many a sullen storm,
For which coarse man seems much the fitter born,
Rain'd on thy bed
And harmless head.
And now as fresh and cheerful as the light,
Thy little heart in early hymns doth sing
Unto that Providence, Whose unseen arm
Curb'd them, and cloath'd thee well and warm.

Vaughan sees what is beautiful in the world and loves it ; but all the while he looks through it and beyond it. Herbert, whose life and poems were his model, wrote :

A man that looks on glass,
On it may stay his eye ;
Or if he pleaseth, through it pass,
And then the heavens espy.

So it is that Vaughan looks upon nature. Even in his lines to a little bird, he says that though the birds of light make a land glad, yet there are night birds with mournful note, and ends,

Brightness and mirth, and love and faith, all flye,
Till the day-spring breaks forth again from high.

All that he writes comes from his own experience. There is not a hint of glancing at his audience ; every poem sounds as if it had been written for his own eyes and for those of no one else. There is somewhat of the charm of " Jerusalem the golden " in his

My soul, there is a countrie,
Afar beyond the stars ;

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE Vaughan loves nature, and his Bird is as tender as it is strong. One might fancy that it was Robert Burns himself who speaks : Hither thou com'st. what is busie wind all night Blew through thy lodging, where thy own warm wing Thy pillow was. Many a sullen storm, For which coarse man seems much what is fitter born, Rain'd on thy bed And harmless head. And now as fresh and cheerful as what is light, Thy little heart in early hymns doth sing Unto that Providence, Whose unseen arm Curb'd them, and cloath'd thee well and warm. Vaughan sees what is beautiful in what is world and loves it ; but all what is while he looks through it and beyond it. Herbert, whose life and poems were his model, wrote : A man that looks on glass, On it may stay his eye ; Or if he pleaseth, through it pass, And then what is heavens espy. So it is that Vaughan looks upon nature. Even in his lines to a little bird, he says that though what is bi where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" A BRIEF HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE (1914) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 145 where is strong CHAPTER VIII PURITANS AND CAVALIERS II where is p align="justify" Vaughan loves nature, and his Bird is as tender as it is strong. One might fancy that it was Robert Burns himself who speaks : Hither thou com'st. what is busie wind all night Blew through thy lodging, where thy own warm wing Thy pillow was. Many a sullen storm, For which coarse man seems much what is fitter born, Rain'd on thy bed And harmless head. And now as fresh and cheerful as what is light, Thy little heart in early hymns doth sing Unto that Providence, Whose unseen arm Curb'd them, and cloath'd thee well and warm. Vaughan sees what is beautiful in what is world and loves it ; but all what is while he looks through it and beyond it. Herbert, whose life and poems were his model, wrote : A man that looks on glass, On it may stay his eye ; Or if he pleaseth, through it pass, And then what is heavens espy. So it is that Vaughan looks upon nature. Even in his lines to a little bird, he says that though what is birds of light make a land glad, yet there are night birds with mournful note, and ends, Brightness and mirth, and what time is it and faith, all flye, Till what is day-spring breaks forth again from high. All that he writes comes from his own experience. There is not a hint of glancing at his audience ; every poem sounds as if it had been written for his own eyes and for those of no one else. There is somewhat of what is charm of " Jerusalem what is golden " in his My soul, there is a countrie, Afar beyond what is stars ; where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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