ROOM! room! make room for the bo… First father of sauce and deviser… Prime master of arts and the giver… That found out the excellent engin… The plough and the flail, the mill…
O, that joy so soon should waste! Or so sweet a bliss As a kiss Might not for ever last! So sugared, so melting, so soft, s…
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.
My son finds occupation in almost nothing, in everything: my soapy penitential toothpaste, his mother’s loosened hair orts, containers, useless things;
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…
I have no children: But tonight a poem came in which a small child, my daughter, appeared at the door of a half-lit room
This morning, timely rapt with hol… I thought to form unto my zealous… What kind of creature I could mos… To honour, serve, and love; as poe… I meant to make her fair, and free…
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…
Epitaphs i WOULDST thou hear what Man can… In a little? Reader, stay. Underneath this stone doth lie As much Beauty as could die:
Kisse mee, Sweet: The wary lover Can your favours keepe, and cover, When the common courting jay All your bounties will betray. Kisse againe: no creature comes.
The Turn Brave infant of Saguntum, clear Thy coming forth in that great yea… When the prodigious Hannibal did… His rage, with razing your immorta…
Good, and great God, can I not th… But it must, straight, my melancho… Is it interpreted in mee disease, That, laden with my sinnes. I see… O, be thou witnesse, that the rein…
Gut eats all day and lechers all t… So all his meat he tasteth over tw… And, striving so to double his del… He makes himself a thoroughfare of… Thus in his belly can he change a…
Lucy, you brightness of our sphere… Life of the Muses’ day, their mor… If works, not th’ author’s, their… Whose poems would not wish to be y… But these, desir’d by you, the mak…
The owl is abroad, the bat and the… And so is the cat-a mountain, The ant and the mole sit both in a… And frog peeps out o’the fountain; The dogs they do bay, and the timb…