10 Best Famous Lookers Poems

Here is a collection of the top 10 all-time best famous Lookers poems. This is a select list of the best famous Lookers poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Lookers poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of lookers poems.

• All Famous Lookers Poems

 Lord, how couldst thou so much appease
Thy wrath for sin, as when man's sight was dim, 
And could see little, to regard his ease, 
And bring by Faith all things to him? 

Hungry I was, and had no meat: 
I did conceit a most delicious feast; 
I had it straight, and did as truly eat, 
As ever did a welcome guest.

There is a rare outlandish root, 
Which when I could not get, I thought it here: 
That apprehension cur'd so well my foot, 
That I can walk to heav'n well near.

I owed thousands and much more.
I did believe that I did nothing owe, 
And liv'd accordingly; my creditor
Believes so too, and lets me go.

Faith makes me any thing, or all
That I believe is in the sacred story: 
And where sin placeth me in Adam's fall, 
Faith sets me higher in his glory.

If I go lower in the book, 
What can be lower than the common manger? 
Faith puts me there with him, who sweetly took
Our flesh and frailty, death and danger.

If bliss had lien in art or strength, 
None but the wise or strong had gained it: 
Where now by Faith all arms are of a length; 
One size doth all conditions fit.

A peasant may believe as much
As a great Clerk, and reach the highest stature.
Thus dost thou make proud knowledge bend and crouch
While grace fills up uneven nature.

When creatures had no real light
Inherent in them, thou didst make the sun
Impute a lustre, and allow them bright; 
And in this show what Christ hath done.

That which before was darkned clean
With bushy groves, pricking the looker's eye, 
Vanisht away, when Faith did change the scene: 
And then appear'd a glorious sky.

What though my body run to dust? 
Faith cleaves unto it, counting ev'ry grain
With an exact and most particular trust, 
Reserving all for flesh again.

 Looke how the russet morne exceeds the night,
How sleekest Jett yields to the di'monds light,
So farr the glory of the gray-bright eye
Out-vyes the black in lovely majesty.
A morning mantl'd with a fleece of gray
Laughs from her brow and shewes a spotlesse day:
This di'mond-like doth not his lustre owe
To borrowed helpe, as black thinges cast a show,
It needs noe day besides itselfe, and can
Make a Cimmeria seeme meridian:
Light sees, tis seen, tis that whereby wee see
When darknesse in the opticke facultie
Is but a single element: then tell
Is not that eye the best wherein doth dwell
More plenteous light? that organ is divine,
And more than eye that is all chrystalline,
All rich of sight: oh that perspicuous glasse
That lets in light, and lets a light forth passe
Tis Lustre's thoroughfare where rayes doe thronge,
A burning glasse that fires the lookers-on.
Black eies sett off coarse beauties which they grace
But as a beard smutch'd on a swarthy face.
Why should the seat of life be dull'd with shade,
Or that be darke for which the day was made?
The learned Pallas, who had witt to choose,
And power to take, did other eyes refuse,
And wore the gray: each country painter blotts
His goddesse eyeballs with two smutty spotts.
Corruption layes on blacke; give me the eye
Whose lustre dazles paynt and poetrie,
That's day unto itselfe; which like the sun
Seemes all one flame. They that his beames will shun
Here dye like flyes: when eyes of every kind
Faint at the sun, at these the sun growes blind,
And skipps behind a cloud, that all may say
The Eye of all the world loves to be gray.

 Be the mistress of my choice,
Clean in manners, clear in voice;
Be she witty, more than wise,
Pure enough, though not precise;
Be she showing in her dress,
Like a civil wilderness,
That the curious may detect
Order in a sweet neglect;
Be she rolling in her eye,
Tempting all the passers by;
And each ringlet of her hair,
An enchantment, or a snare,
For to catch the lookers on;
But herself held fast by none.
Let her Lucrece all day be,
Thais in the night, to me.
Be she such, as neither will
Famish me, nor overfill.

 WAs it the worke of nature or of Art?
which tempred so the feature of her face:
that pride and meeknesse mixt by equall part,
doe both appeare t'adorne her beauties grace.
For with mild pleasance, which doth pride displace,
she to her loues doth lookers eyes allure:
& with sterne countenance back again doth chace
their looser lookes that stir vp lustes impure,
With such strange termes her eyes she doth inure,
that with one looke she doth my life dismay:
and with another doth it streight recure,
her smile me drawes, her frowne me driues away.
Thus doth she traine and teach me with her lookes,
such art of eyes I neuer read in bookes.

 Oh Book! infinite sweetness! let my heart
Suck ev'ry letter, and a honey gain, 
Precious for any grief in any part; 
To clear the breast, to mollify all pain.
Thou art all health, health thriving, till it make
A full eternity: thou art a mass
Of strange delights, where we may wish and take.
Ladies, look here; this is the thankfull glass, 
That mends the looker's eyes: this is the well
That washes what it shows. Who can endear
Thy praise too much? thou art heav'n's Lidger here, 
Working against the states of death and hell.
Thou art joy's handsel: heav'n lies flat in thee, 
Subject to ev'ry mounter's bended knee.