#English #Renaissance #XVICentury
WHo is the same, which at my wind… Or whose is that faire face, that… Is it not Cinthia, she that neuer… But walkes about high heauen al th… O fayrest goddesse, do thou not en…
My love is like to ice, and I to… How comes it then that this her co… Is not dissolved through my so hot… But harder grows the more I her e… Or how comes it that my exceeding…
Penelope for her Ulisses sake, Deviz’d a Web her wooers to decea… In which the worke that she all da… The same at night she did again un… Such subtile craft my Damzell dot…
SO oft as homeward I from her dep… I goe lyke one that hauing lost th… is prisoner led away with heauy ha… despoyld of warlike armes and know… So doe I now my selfe a prisoner…
THE FIRST BOOKE OF T… Contayning THE LEGENDE OF THE KN… RED CROSSE, OR OF HOLIN… Lo I the man, whose Muse whilome…
By that he ended had his ghostly s… The fox was well induc’d to be a p… And of the priest eftsoons gan to… How to a benefice he might aspire. “Marry, there” (said the priest) "…
FResh spring the herald of loues… In whose cote armour richly are di… all sorts of flowers the which on… in goodly colours gloriously array… Goe to my loue, where she is carel…
In that proud port, which her so g… Whiles her faire face she reares u… And to the ground her eie lids low… Most goodly temperature ye may des… Myld humblesse mixt with awfull ma…
THe weary yeare his race now haui… The new begins his compast course… with shew of morning mylde he hath… betokening peace and plenty to ens… So let vs, which this chaunge of w…
GReat wrong I doe, I can it not… to that most sacred Empresse my de… not finishing her Queene of faery, that mote enlarge her liuing prays… But lodwick, this of grace to me a…
WEake is th’assurance that weake… In her owne powre and scorneth oth… that soonest fals when as she most… her selfe assurd, and is of nought… All flesh is frayle, and all her s…
Februarie: Ægloga Secunda. CVD… CVDDIE. AH for pittie, wil ranke Winters… These bitter blasts neuer ginne ta… The keene cold blowes throug my be…
Rapt with the rage of mine own rav… Through contemplation of those goo… And glorious images in heaven wrou… Whose wondrous beauty, breathing s… Do kindle love in high-conceited s…
VNto his mother straight he weepi… and of his griefe complayned: Who could not chose but laugh at h… though sad to see him pained. Think now (quod she) my sonne how…
Behold whiles she before the altar… Hearing the holy priest that to he… And blesseth her with his two happ… How the red roses flush vp in her… And the pure snow with goodly verm…