#English
Charms, that call down the moon fr… On this sick youth work your encha… Bind up his senses with your numbe… As to entrance his pain, or cure h… Fall gently, gently, and a-while h…
Ye have been fresh and green, Ye have been fill’d with flowers; And ye the walks have been Where maids have spent their hours… You have beheld how they
Have ye beheld (with much delight) A red rose peeping through a white… Or else a cherry (double graced) Within a lily? Centre placed? Or ever marked the pretty beam
Man is composed here of a twofold… The first of nature, and the next… Art presupposes nature; nature, sh… Prepares the way for man’s docilit…
About the sweet bag of a bee Two Cupids fell at odds; And whose the pretty prize should… They vow’d to ask the Gods. Which Venus hearing, thither came…
Ah Ben! Say how or when Shall we, thy guests, Meet at those lyric feasts, Made at the Sun,
See’st thou that cloud as silver c… Plump, soft, and swelling every wh… ’Tis Julia’s bed, and she sleeps…
Man knows where first he ships him… Never can tell where shall his lan…
O earth! earth! earth! hear tho… Loving and gentle for to cover me! Banish’d from thee I live;—ne’er… Unless thou giv’st my small remain…
I call, I call: who do ye call? The maids to catch this cowslip ba… But since these cowslips fading be… Troth, leave the flowers, and maid… Yet, if that neither you will do,
O years! and age! farewell: Behold I go, Where I do know Infinity to dwell. And these mine eyes shall see
So smooth, so sweet, so silv’ry is… As, could they hear, the Damned w… But listen to thee (walking in thy… melting melodious words to Lutes o…
When I consider, dearest, thou do… But here awhile, to languish and d… Like to these garden glories, whic… The flowery-sweet resemblances of… With grief of heart, methinks, I…
That flow of gallants which approa… To kiss thy hand from out the coac… That fleet of lackeys which do run Before thy swift postilion; Those strong-hoof’d mules, which w…
Since shed or cottage I have none… I sing the more, that thou hast on… To whose glad threshold, and free… I may a Poet come, though poor; And eat with thee a savoury bit,