#Renaissance
Camden, most reverend head, to who… Â All that I am in arts, all tha… (How nothing’s that!), to whom my… Â The great renown and name where… Than thee the age sees not that th…
Come, my Celia, let us prove While we may the sports of love; Time will not be ours forever, He at length our good will sever. Spend not then his gifts in vain;
Pray thee, take care, that tak’st… To read it well: that is, to under…
A SONG APOLOGETIC Men, if you love us, play no more The fools or tyrants with your fri… To make us still sing o’er and o’e… Our own false praises, for your en…
Queen and huntress, chaste and fai… Now the sun is laid to sleep, Seated in thy silver chair State in wonted manner keep: Hesperus entreats thy light,
if only for ten minutes after the mass feeding of schoolch… after the careful inanity of the s… at low tide this was the place
In the ember days of my last free… here I lie, outside myself, watchi… the gross body eating a poor curry… satisfied at what I have done, sca… I have to do in my last free winte…
For love’s sake, kiss me once agai… I long, and should not beg in vain… Here’s none to spy or see; Why do you doubt or stay? I’ll taste as lightly as the bee
The long laments I spent for ruin… Are dried; and now mine eyes run t… No more shall men suppose Electra… Though from the consort of her sis… Unto the Artick circle, here to g…
A farewell for a Gentlewoman, ver… False world, good-night, since tho… That houre upon my morne of age, Hence-forth I quit thee from my t… My part is ended on thy stage.
See the chariot at hand here of L… Wherein my lady rideth! Each that draws is a swan or a dov… And well the car Love guideth. As she goes, all hearts do duty
Not to know vice at all, and keepe… Is vertue, and not Fate: Next, to that vertue, is to know v… And her black spight expell. Which to effect (since no brest is…
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.
If I freely can discover What would please me in my lover, I would have her fair and witty, Savouring more of court than city; A little proud, but full of pity;
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…