#Renaissance
Follow a shaddow, it still flies y… Seeme to flye it, it will pursue: So court a mistris, she denies you… Let her alone, she will court you. Say, are not women truly, then,
Who says that Giles and Joan at d… Â Th’ observing neighbors no such… Indeed, poor Giles repents he mar… Â But that his Joan doth too. An… By his free will be in Joan’s com…
Don Surly, to aspire the glorious… Of a great man, and to be thought… Makes serious use of all great tra… He speaks to men with a Rhinocero… Which he thinks great; and so read…
I now think Love is rather deaf t… For else it could not be That she, Whom I adore so much, should so s… And cast my love behind.
Wouldst thou hear what man can say In a little? Reader, stay. Underneath this stone doth lie As much beauty as could die; Which in life did harbor give
The fairy beam upon you, The stars to glister on you; A moon of light In the noon of night, Till the fire-drake hath o’ergone…
Follow a shadow, it still flies yo… Seem to fly it, it will pursue: So court a mistress, she denies yo… Let her alone, she will court you. Say, are not women truly then
It is not growing like a tree in bulk, doth make Man better be; or standing long an oak three hund… to fall a log at last, dry, bald,… A lily of a day
HIGH-SPIRITED friend, I send nor balms nor cor’sives to… Your fate hath found A gentler and more agile hand to t… The cure of that which is but corp…
FALSE world, good night! since t… That hour upon my morn of age; Henceforth I quit thee from my th… My part is ended on thy stage. Yes, threaten, do. Alas! I fear
Though beauty be the mark of prais… And yours of whom I sing be such As not the world can praise too mu… Yet ’tis your virtue now I raise. A virtue, like allay, so gone
Thy praise or dispraise is to me a… One doth not stroke me, nor the ot…
Hear me, O God! A broken heart Is my best part. Use still thy rod, That I may prove
Why, Disease, dost thou molest Ladies? and of them the best? Do not men, ynow of rites To thy altars, by their nights Spent in surfets: and their dayes,
GENIUS. Time, Fate, and Fortune have at l… To give our Age the day so much d… What all the minutes, houres, week… That hang in file upon these silve…
