#Couplet #EnglishWriters #Epigram
Stand still, and I will read to t… A lecture, love, in love’s philoso… These three hours that we have spe… Walking here, two shadows went Along with us, which we ourselves…
Twice or thrice had I lov’d thee, Before I knew thy face or name; So in a voice, so in a shapeless f… Angels affect us oft, and worshipp… Still when, to where thou wert, I…
No spring nor summer beauty hath s… As I have seen in one autumnal fa… Young beauties force our love, and… This doth but counsel, yet you can… If ‘twere a shame to love, here ’t…
Our storm is past, and that storm’… A stupid calm, but nothing it, dot… The fable is inverted, and far mor… A block afflicts, now, than a stor… Storms chafe, and soon wear out th…
Nature’s lay idiot, I taught thee… And in that sophistry, oh, thou do… Too subtle: Fool, thou didst not… The mystic language of the eye nor… Nor couldst thou judge the differe…
‘Tis true, ‘tis day, what though i… O wilt thou therefore rise from me… Why should we rise because ‘tis li… Did we lie down because ‘twas nigh… Love, which in spite of darkness b…
Death, be not proud, though some h… Mighty and dreadful, for thou art… For those whom thou think’st thou… Die not, poor Death, nor yet cans… From rest and sleep, which but thy…
I scarce believe my love to be so… As I had thought it was, Because it doth endure Vicissitude, and season, as the gr… Methinks I lied all winter, when…
He is stark mad, whoever says, That he hath been in love an hour, Yet not that love so soon decays, But that it can ten in less space… Who will believe me, if I swear
Some that have deeper digg’d love’… Say, where his centric happiness d… I have lov’d, and got, and told, But should I love, get, tell, til… I should not find that hidden myst…
At the round earth’s imagined corn… Your trumpets, angels, and arise,… From death, you numberless infinit… Of souls, and to your scattered bo… All whom the flood did, and fire s…
Sweetest love, I do not go, For weariness of thee, Nor in hope the world can show A fitter love for me; But since that I
WILT thou forgive that sinn, whe… Which is my sinn, though it were d… Wilt thou forgive those sinns thro… And doe run still, though still I… When thou has done, thou hast not…
Here take my picture; though I bi… Thine, in my heart, where my soul… ‘Tis like me now, but I dead, ’tw… When we are shadows both, than 'tw… When weather—beaten I come back,…
Where, like a pillow on a bed A pregnant bank swell’d up to rest The violet’s reclining head, Sat we two, one another’s best. Our hands were firmly cemented
