#EnglishWriters
Down with the rosemary and bays, Down with the misletoe; Instead of holly, now up-raise The greener box, for show. The holly hitherto did sway;
These fresh beauties, we can prove… Once were virgins, sick of love, Turn’d to flowers: still in some, Colours go and colours come.
Weigh me the fire; or canst thou f… A way to measure out the wind? Distinguish all those floods that… Mixed in that wat’ry theater, And taste thou them as saltless th…
Great cities seldom rest; if there… T’ invade from far, they’ll find w…
IN the hour of my distress, When temptations me oppress, And when I my sins confess, Sweet Spirit, comfort me! When I lie within my bed,
Go, happy Rose, and interwove With other flowers, bind my Love. Tell her, too, she must not be Longer flowing, longer free, That so oft has fetter’d me.
Health is the first good lent to m… A gentle disposition then: Next, to be rich by no by-ways; Lastly, with friends t’ enjoy our…
Stay while ye will, or go, And leave no scent behind ye: Yet trust me, I shall know The place where I may find ye. Within my Lucia’s cheek,
A funeral stone Or verse, I covet none; But only crave Of you that I may have A sacred laurel springing from my…
All things decay with time: The… The growth and down-fall of her ag… That timber tall, which three-scor… The proud dictator of the state-li… I mean the sovereign of all plants…
Sapho, I will chuse to go Where the northern winds do blow Endless ice, and endless snow; Rather than I once would see But a winter’s face in thee,—
Farewell thou thing, time past so… To me as blood to life and spirit;… Nay, thou more near than kindred,… Male to the female, soul to body;… To quick action, or the warm soft…
A wearied pilgrim I have wander’d… Twice five-and-twenty, bate me but… Long I have lasted in this world;… But yet those years that I have l… Who by his gray hairs doth his lus…
Come, bring your sampler, and with… Draw in’t a wounded heart, And dropping here and there; Not that I think that any dart Can make your’s bleed a tear,
Here she lies, in bed of spice, Fair as Eve in paradise; For her beauty, it was such, Poets could not praise too much. Virgins come, and in a ring