#English #XVIICentury
When I by thy faire shape did swe… And mingled with each vowe a teare… I lov’d, I lov’d thee best, I swore as I profest. For all the while you lasted warme…
DE QUINTIA ET LESBIA. EP… Quintia formosa est multis, mihi c… Recta est; haec ego sic singula co… Tota illud formosa nego: nam multa… Nulla in tam magno est corpore mic…
Lucasta TELL me Alexis what this parting… That so like dying is, but is not… Alexis It is a swounding for a while from…
SHE beat the happy pavement— By such a star made firmament, Which now no more the roof envi… But swells up high, with Atlas… Bearing the brighter nobler hea…
OH thou that swing’st upon the wa… Of some well—filled Oaten Beard, Drunke ev’ry night with a Delicio… Dropt thee from Heav’n, where now… II
YOU that shall live awhile before Old Time tyr’s, and is no more ; When that this Ambitious Stone Stoopes low as what it tramples on… Know that in that Age when Sinne
IF in me Anger, or disdaine In you, or both, made me refraine From th’ Noble intercourse of Ver… That only Vertuous thoughts rehea… Then Chaste Ellinda might you fea…
IT was Amyntor’s Grove, that Chl… For ever Ecchoes and her Glories… Chloris, the gentlest Sheapherdes… That ever Lawnes and Lambes did b… Her Breath like to the whispering…
Pray, ladies, breath, awhile lay b… Caelestial Sydney’s ARCADY; Heere’s a story that doth claime A little respite from his flame: Then with a quick dissolving looke
Sweet serene skye—like Flower, Haste to adorn her Bower: From thy long clowdy bed, Shoot forth thy damaske head. II.
AUSONIUS EPIG. Emptis quod libris tibi bibliothec… Doctum et grammaticum te, philomus… Quinetiam cytharas, chordas et bar… Mercator hodie, cras citharoedus,…
Twas not for some calm blessing to… Thou didst thy polish’d hands in s… It were no blessing thus obtain’d; Thou rather would’st a curse have… Then let thy warm driven snow be e…
Why should you sweare I am forswo… Since thine I vow’d to be? Lady it is already Morn, And ’twas last night I swore to t… That fond impossibility.
Heark! Oh heark! you guilty Tre… In whose gloomy Galleries Was the cruell’st murder done, That e’re yet eclipst the Sunne ; Be then henceforth in your twigges
Now fie upon that everlasting life… She hates! Ah me! It makes me m… As if love fir’d his torch at a mo… Or with his joyes e’re crown’d the… Oh, let me live and shout, when I…