#English #XVICentury #XVIICentury
Thy glass will show thee how thy b… Thy dial how thy precious minutes… These vacant leaves thy mind’s imp… And of this book, this learning ma… The wrinkles which thy glass will…
And let me the canakin clink, clin… And let me the canakin clink A soldier’s a man; A life’s but a span; Why, then, let a soldier drink.
Weary with toil, I haste me to my… The dear repose for limbs with tra… But then begins a journey in my he… To work my mind, when body’s work’… For then my thoughts, from far whe…
Like as to make our appetite more… With eager compounds we our palate… As to prevent our maladies unseen, We sicken to shun sickness when we… Even so being full of your ne’er-c…
Is it for fear to wet a widow’s ey… That thou consum’st thy self in si… Ah, if thou issueless shalt hap to… The world will wail thee like a ma… The world will be thy widow and st…
THAT time of year thou may’st in… When yellow leaves, or none, or fe… Upon those boughs which shake agai… Bare ruin’d choirs where late the… In me thou see’st the twilight of…
Accuse me thus: that I have scant… Wherein I should your great deser… Forgot upon your dearest love to c… Whereto all bonds do tie me day by… That I have frequent been with un…
Tired with all these, for restful… As to behold desert a beggar born, And needy nothing trimmed in jolli… And purest faith unhappily forswor… And gilded honour shamefully mispl…
My love is as a fever, longing sti… For that which longer nurseth the… Feeding on that which doth preserv… The uncertain sickly appetite to p… My reason, the physician to my lov…
Is it thy will thy image should ke… My heavy eyelids to the weary nigh… Dost thou desire my slumbers shoul… While shadows like to thee do mock… Is it thy spirit that thou send’st…
No longer mourn for me when I am… Than you shall hear the surly sull… Give warning to the world that I… From this vile world with vilest w… Nay if you read this line, remembe…
Or whether doth my mind, being cro… Drink up the monarch’s plague, thi… Or whether shall I say mine eye s… And that your love taught it this… To make of monsters, and things in…
Since brass, nor stone, nor earth,… But sad mortality o’er—sways their… How with this rage shall beauty ho… Whose action is no stronger than a… O, how shall summer’s honey breath…
Let the bird of loudest lay, On the sole Arabian tree, Herald sad and trumpet be, To whose sound chaste wings obey. But thou, shrieking harbinger,
Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLY… Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial… Draws on apace; four happy days br… Another moon: but, O, methinks, h… This old moon wanes! she lingers m…