#Renaissance #Couplet
Where dost thou careless lie, Buried in ease and sloth? Knowledge that sleeps doth die; And this security, It is the common moth
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…
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…
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…
Epitaphs i WOULDST thou hear what Man can… In a little? Reader, stay. Underneath this stone doth lie As much Beauty as could die:
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…
See the chariot at hand here of L… Wherein my lady rideth! Each that draws is a swan or a dov… And well the car Love guideth. As she goes, all hearts do duty
Donne, the delight of Phoebus and… Who, to thy one, all other brains… Whose every work of thy most early… Came forth example, and remains so… Longer a-knowing than most wits do…
Gut eats all day and lechers all t… So all his meat he tasteth over tw… And, striving so to double his del… He makes himself a thoroughfare of… Thus in his belly can he change a…
Still to be neat, still to be dres… As you were going to a feast; Still to be powdered, still perfum… Lady, it is to be presumed, Though art’s hid causes are not fo…
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…
Underneath this sable hearse Lies the subject of all verse, Sidney’s sister, Pembroke’s mothe… Death! ere thou hast slain another… Learned, and fair, and good as she…
GENIUS. Time, Fate, and Fortune have at l… To give our Age the day so much d… What all the minutes, houres, week… That hang in file upon these silve…
The Turn Brave infant of Saguntum, clear Thy coming forth in that great yea… When the prodigious Hannibal did… His rage with razing your immortal…
Thou art not, Penshurst, built to… Of touch or marble; nor canst boas… Of polished pillars, or a roof of… Thou hast no lantern, whereof tale… Or stair, or courts; but stand’st…
