#EnglishWriters
True mirth resides not in the smil… The sweetest solace is to act no s…
When I love, as some have told Love I shall, when I am old, O ye Graces! make me fit For the welcoming of it! Clean my rooms, as temples be,
Lord, Thou hast given me a cell Wherein to dwell, A little house, whose humble roof Is weather—proof: Under the spars of which I lie
In this world, the isle of dreams, While we sit by sorrow’s streams, Tears and terrors are our themes Reciting: But when once from hence we fly,
Virgins promised when I died, That they would each primrose-tide Duly, morn and evening, come, And with flowers dress my tomb. —Having promised, pay your debts
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, Old time is still a-flying: And this same flower that smiles t… To-morrow will be dying. The glorious lamp of heaven, the s…
Droop, droop no more, or hang the… Ye roses almost withered; Now strength, and newer purple get… Each here declining violet. O primroses! let this day be
Drink wine, and live here blithefu… The morrow’s life too late is; Li…
Love, like a gipsy, lately came, And did me much importune To see my hand, that by the same He might foretell my fortune. He saw my palm; and then, said he,
When words we want, Love teacheth… And what we blush to speak, she bi…
One asked me where the roses grew: I bade him not go seek, But forwith bade my Julia show A bud in either cheek.
In man, ambition is the common’st… Each one by nature loves to be a k…
Sadly I walk’d within the field, To see what comfort it would yield… And as I went my private way, An olive-branch before me lay; And seeing it, I made a stay,
To the Right Honourable Mildmay,… Come, sons of summer, by whose toi… We are the lords of wine and oil; By whose tough labours, and rough… We rip up first, then reap our lan…
Give me a man that is not dull, When all the world with rifts is f… But unamazed dares clearly sing, Whenas the roof’s a-tottering; And though it falls, continues sti…
