#EnglishWriters
Blessings in abundance come To the bride and to her groom ; May the bed and this short night Know the fulness of delight! Pleasure many here attend ye,
This day, my Julia, thou must mak… For Mistress Bride the wedding-ca… Knead but the dough, and it will b… To paste of almonds turn’d by thee… Or kiss it thou but once or twice,
A SWEET disorder in the dress Kindles in clothes a wantonness: A lawn about the shoulders thrown Into a fine distraction: An erring lace which here and ther…
You may vow I’ll not forget To pay the debt Which to thy memory stands as due As faith can seal it you. —Take then tribute of my tears;
In all thy need, be thou possest Still with a well prepared breast; Nor let the shackles make thee sad… Thou canst but have what others ha… And this for comfort thou must kno…
When I behold a forest spread With silken trees upon thy head; And when I see that other dress Of flowers set in comeliness; When I behold another grace
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
Am I despised, because you say; And I dare swear, that I am gray? Know, Lady, you have but your day… And time will come when you shall… Such frost and snow upon your hair…
Julia, if I chance to die Ere I print my poetry, I most humbly thee desire To commit it to the fire: Better ’twere my book were dead,
By those soft tods of wool, With which the air is full; By all those tinctures there That paint the hemisphere; By dews and drizzling rain,
Hapcot! To thee the Fairy State I with discretion, dedicate. Because thou prizest things that a… Curious, and un-familiar. Take first the feast; these dishes…
Music, thou queen of heaven, care-… That strik’st a stillness into hel… Thou that tam’st tigers, and fierc… With thy soul-melting lullabies; Fall down, down, down, from those…
Cupid as he lay among Roses, by a Bee was stung. Whereupon in anger flying To his Mother, said thus crying; Help! O help! your Boy’s a dying.
I will confess With cheerfulness, Love is a thing so likes me, That, let her lay On me all day,
LACON. For a kiss or two, conf… What doth cause this pensiveness, Thou most lovely neat-herdess? Why so lonely on the hill? Why thy pipe by thee so still,