#EnglishWriters
As shews the air when with a rain-… So smiles that ribbon 'bout my Ju… Or like——Nay, ’tis that Zonulet o… Wherein all pleasures of the world…
Love is a circle, that doth restle… In the same sweet eternity of Lov…
What will ye, my poor orphans, do, When I must leave the world and y… Who’ll give ye then a sheltering s… Or credit ye, when I am dead? Who’ll let ye by their fire sit,
See’st thou that cloud as silver c… Plump, soft, and swelling every wh… ’Tis Julia’s bed, and she sleeps…
Why I tie about thy wrist, Julia, this silken twist; For what other reason ’tis But to show thee how, in part, Thou my pretty captive art?
In numbers, and but these few, I sing thy birth, oh JESU! Thou pretty Baby, born here, With sup’rabundant scorn here; Who for thy princely port here,
You say I love not, 'cause I do n… Still with your curls, and kiss th… You blame me, too, because I can’… Some sport, to please those babies… By Love’s religion, I must here c…
O years! and age! farewell: Behold I go, Where I do know Infinity to dwell. And these mine eyes shall see
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,
Now is the time for mirth, Nor cheek or tongue be dumb; For with the flow’ry earth The golden pomp is come. The golden pomp is come;
Truth by her own simplicity is kno… Falsehood by varnish and vermilion…
Thou see’st me, Lucia, this year… Three zodiacs fill’d more, I shal… Let crutches then provided be To shore up my debility: Then, while thou laugh’st, I’ll s…
No man such rare parts hath, that… If favour or occasion help not him…
In prayer the lips ne’er act the w… Without the sweet concurrence of t…
A funeral stone Or verse, I covet none; But only crave Of you that I may have A sacred laurel springing from my…