#English #XVICentury #XVIICentury
As a decrepit father takes delight To see his active child do deeds o… So I, made lame by Fortune’s dear… Take all my comfort of thy worth a… For whether beauty, birth, or weal…
O! how I faint when I of you do w… Knowing a better spirit doth use y… And in the praise thereof spends a… To make me tongue-tied speaking of… But since your worth—wide as the o…
Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypress let me be laid. Fly away, fly away, breath; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with…
O, how thy worth with manners may… When thou art all the better part… What can mine own praise to mine o… And what is’t but mine own when I… Even for this let us divided live,
When to the sessions of sweet sile… I summon up remembrance of things… I sigh the lack of many a thing I… And with old woes new wail my dear… Then can I drown an eye, unus’d t…
Love is too young to know what con… Yet who knows not conscience is bo… Then, gentle cheater, urge not my… Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet… For, thou betraying me, I do betr…
Thus can my love excuse the slow o… Of my dull bearer, when from thee… From where thou art, why should I… Till I return, of posting is no n… O, what excuse will my poor beast…
Whoever hath her wish, thou hast t… And Will to boot, and Will in ove… More than enough am I that vex th… To thy sweet will making addition… Wilt thou, whose will is large and…
ROSES, their sharp spines being… Not royal in their smells alone, But in their hue; Maiden pinks, of odour faint, Daisies smell-less, yet most quain…
ON a day—alack the day!— Love, whose month is ever May, Spied a blossom passing fair Playing in the wanton air: Through the velvet leaves the wind
Thus is his cheek the map of days… When beauty lived and died as flow… Before these bastard signs of fair… Or durst inhabit on a living brow; Before the golden tresses of the d…
Since I left you, mine eye is in… And that which governs me to go ab… Doth part his function, and is par… Seems seeing, but effectually is o… For it no form delivers to the hea…
How heavy do I journey on the way… When what I seek, my weary travel… Doth teach that case and that repo… “Thus far the miles are measured f… The beast that bears me, tired wit…
When I consider everything that g… Holds in perfection but a little m… That this huge stage presenteth no… Whereon the stars in secret influe… When I perceive that men as plant…
Thine eyes I love, and they, as p… Knowing thy heart torment me with… Have put on black, and loving mour… Looking with pretty ruth upon my p… And truly not the morning sun of h…