#Couplet #EnglishWriters #Epigram
Wilt thou forgive that sin where… Which was my sin, though it were d… Wilt thou forgive that sin, throug… And do run still, though still I… When thou hast done, thou hast not…
I can love both fair and brown, Her whom abundance melts, and her… Her who loves loneness best, and h… Her whom the country formed, and w… Her who believes, and her who trie…
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…
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
I am a little world made cunningly Of elements and an angelic sprite, But black sin hath betray’d to end… My world’s both parts, and oh both… You which beyond that heaven which…
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,…
All Kings, and all their favourit… All glory of honours, beauties, wi… The sun itself, which makes times,… Is elder by a year now than it was When thou and I first one another…
I’ll tell thee now (dear Love) wh… To anger destiny, as she doth us, How I shall stay, though she eslo… And how posterity shall know it to… How thine may out-endure
For God’s sake hold your tongue,… Or chide my palsy, or my gout, My five gray hairs, or ruined fort… With wealth your state, your mind… Take you a course, get you a place…
Since she whom I lov’d hath paid… To nature, and to hers, and my goo… And her soul early into heaven rav… Wholly in heavenly things my mind… Here the admiring her my mind did…
I wonder, by my troth, what thou a… Did, till we loved? Were we not w… But sucked on country pleasures, c… Or snorted we in the Seven Sleepe… ’Twas so; but this, all pleasures…
Go and catch a falling star, Get with child a mandrake root, Tell me where all past years are, Or who cleft the devil’s foot, Teach me to hear mermaids singing,
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…
Oh my black soul! now art thou sum… By sickness, death’s herald, and c… Thou art like a pilgrim, which abr… Treason, and durst not turn to whe… Or like a thief, which till death’…
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
