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…
It will be looked for, book, when… Â Thy title, Epigrams, and named of me, Thou should’st be bold, licentious… Â Wormwood and sulphur, sharp and…
Lucy, you brightness of our sphere… Life of the Muses’ day, their mor… If works, not th’ author’s, their… Whose poems would not wish to be y… But these, desir’d by you, the mak…
Why Gentlemen, doe you know what… Would you ha’kept me out? Christm… Christmas of London, and Captaine… Pray you let me be brought before… 'Tis merrie in hall when beards wa…
If I freely can discover What would please me in my lover, I would have her fair and witty, Savouring more of court than city; A little proud, but full of pity;
In the ember days of my last free… here I lie, outside myself, watchi… the gross body eating a poor curry… satisfied at what I have done, sca… I have to do in my last free winte…
My awkward grossness grows: I go… I maintain my self in the convicti… that I have as much to say as othe… and more apposite ways of saying i… Certainly I feel it has all been…
Come, leave the loathed stage, And the more loathsome age; Where pride and impudence, in fact… Usurp the chair of wit! Indicting and arraigning every day
Beauties, have ye seen this toy, Called Love, a little boy, Almost naked, wanton, blind; Cruel now, and then as kind? If he be amongst ye, say?
Do but consider this small dust Here running in the glass, By atoms moved; Could you believe that this The body was
Good, and great God, can I not th… But it must, straight, my melancho… Is it interpreted in mee disease, That, laden with my sinnes. I see… O, be thou witnesse, that the rein…
Ere cherries ripe, and strawberrie… Unto the cries of London I’ll add… Ripe statesmen, ripe: they grow in… At six-and-twenty, ripe. You shal… And have him yield no favour, but…
A farewell for a Gentlewoman, ver… False world, good-night, since tho… That houre upon my morne of age, Hence-forth I quit thee from my t… My part is ended on thy stage.
HIGH-SPIRITED friend, I send nor balms nor cor’sives to… Your fate hath found A gentler and more agile hand to t… The cure of that which is but corp…
Wouldst thou hear what man can say In a little? Reader, stay. Underneath this stone doth lie As much beauty as could die; Which in life did harbor give