Sir John Davies Poems

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I KNOW my soul hath power to know all things,
Yet she is blind and ignorant in all:
I know I'm one of Nature's little kings,
Yet to the least and vilest things am thrall.

The Dignity Of Man

Oh what is man, great Maker of mankind!
That Thou to him so great respect dost bear;
That Thou adorn'st him with so bright a mind,

From 'The Triumph Of Death'

London now smokes with vapors that arise
From his foule sweat, himselfe he so bestirres :
'Cast out your dead!' the carcase-carrier cries,
Which he by heapes in groundlesse graves interres.—

From ' The Holy Roode'

To thee, my God, my Lord, my Jesus Christ,
Will I ascribe all glory, pow'r and grace ;
Thee will I serve, say pagans what they list,
And with the arms of love thee still embrace ;

On A Pair of Garters

Go, loving woodbine, clip with lovely grace
Those two sweet plants which bear the flowers of love;
Go, silken vines, those tender elms embrace
Which flourish still although their roots do move.

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