#Renaissance #RhymedStanza
Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup, And I’ll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth…
On the happy entrace of Iames, ou… Licet toto nunc Helicone frui. Mart. Heav’n now not strives, alone, our… With joyes: but urgeth his full fa…
Fine madam Would-Be, wherefore sh… That love to make so well, a child… The world reputes you barren: but… Your 'pothecary, and his drug says… Is it the pain affrights? That’s…
To the Immortal Memory and Frien… Cary and Sir Henry Morison. THE TURN. Brave infant of Saguntum, clear Thy coming forth in that great yea…
This morning, timely rapt with hol… I thought to form unto my zealous… What kind of creature I could mos… To honour, serve, and love; as poe… I meant to make her fair, and free…
Come, my Celia, let us prove, While we can, the sports of love; Time will not be ours forever; He at length our good will sever. Spend not then his gifts in vain.
Poor POET-APE, that would be t… Whose works are e’en the frippery… From brokage is become so bold a t… As we, the robbed, leave rage, and… At first he made low shifts, would…
Come, my Celia, let us prove While we may, the sports of love; Time will not be ours forever; He at length our good will sever. Spend not then his gifts in vain.
Playwright, convict of public wron… Takes private beatings and begins… Two kinds of valor he doth show at… Active in ’s brain, and passive in…
The trawl of unquiet mind drops as… Great lucid streamers bar the sky… (bifurcated banners at a tourney) light alchemizes the brass on the… into sallow gold
For love’s sake, kiss me once agai… I long, and should not beg in vain… Here’s none to spy or see; Why do you doubt or stay? I’ll taste as lightly as the bee
The Turn Brave infant of Saguntum, clear Thy coming forth in that great yea… When the prodigious Hannibal did… His rage, with razing your immorta…
Still to be neat, still to be dres… As you were going to a feast; Still to be powder’d, still perfum… Lady, it is to be presum’d, Though art’s hid causes are not fo…
I love, and he loves me again, Yet dare I not tell who; For if the nymphs should know my s… I fear they’d love him too; Yet if he be not known,