#FreeVerse
Epitaphs i WOULDST thou hear what Man can… In a little? Reader, stay. Underneath this stone doth lie As much Beauty as could die:
Tonight, grave sir, both my poor h… Do equally desire your company; Not that we think us worthy such a… But that your worth will dignify o… With those that come, whose grace…
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.
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…
That neither fame nor love might w… To greatness, Cary, I sing that a… Whose house, if it no other honor… In only thee might be both great a… Who, to upbraid the sloth of this…
Hear me, O God! A broken heart Is my best part. Use still thy rod, That I may prove
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…
Camden, most reverend head, to who… Â All that I am in arts, all tha… (How nothing’s that!), to whom my… Â The great renown and name where… Than thee the age sees not that th…
Good and great God, can I not thi… But it must straight my melancholy… Is it interpreted in me disease That, laden with my sins, I seek… Oh be thou witness, that the reins…
The ports of death are sins; of li… Through which our merit leads us t… How wilful blind is he, then, that… And hath it in his powers to make… This world death’s region is, the…
It is usual for people in this country (out of pretended respect but rather from an impertinent cur… to desire to see
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…
Though beauty be the mark of prais… And yours of whom I sing be such As not the world can praise too mu… Yet ’tis your virtue now I raise. A virtue, like allay, so gone
The owl is abroad, the bat, and th… And so is the cat-a-mountain, The ant and the mole sit both in a… And the frog peeps out o’ the foun… The dogs they do bay, and the timb…
