#EnglishWriters
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…
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…
Mark but this flea, and mark in th… How little that which thou deniest… Me it sucked first, and now sucks… And in this flea our two bloods mi… Thou know’st that this cannot be s…
'Tis the year’s midnight, and it i… Lucy’s, who scarce seven hours her… The sun is spent, and now his flas… Send forth light squibs, no consta… The world’s whole sap is sunk;
Come live with me, and be my love, And we will some new pleasures pro… Of golden sands, and crystal brook… With silken lines, and silver hook… There will the river whispering ru…
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…
Thou hast made me, and shall thy w… Repair me now, for now mine end do… I run to death, and death meets me… And all my pleasures are like yest… I dare not move my dim eyes any wa…
Out of a fired ship, which by no w… But drowning could be rescued from… Some men leap’d forth, and ever as… Near the foes’ ships, did by their… So all were lost, which in the shi…
SEND home my long stray’d eyes t… Which, O! too long have dwelt on… Yet since there they have learn’d… Such forced fashions, And false passions,
When by thy scorn, O murd’ress, I… And that thou think’st thee free From all solicitation from me, Then shall my ghost come to thy be… And thee, feign’d vestal, in worse…
Forget this rotten world, and unto… Let thine own times as an old stor… Be not concern’d; study not why, n… Do not so much as not believe a ma… For though to err, be worst, to tr…
I am unable, yonder beggar cries, To stand, or move; if he say true,…
I am two fools, I know, For loving, and for saying so In whining poetry; But where’s that wiseman, that wou… If she would not deny?
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
Oh, to vex me, contraries meet in… Inconstancy unnaturally hath begot A constant habit; that when I wou… I change in vows, and in devotion. As humorous is my contrition
