#EnglishWriters
Peace my hearts blab, be ever dumb… Sorrowes speak loud without a tong… And my perplexed thoughts forbear To breath your selves in any ear: Tis scarce a true or manly grief
But say thou very woman, why to me This fit of weakness and inconstan… What forfeit have I made of word… That I am rack’t on thy displeasu… If I have done a fault I do not s…
My Dearest, To let you or the wor… What Debt of service I do truly o… To your unpattern’d self, were to… A language onely form’d in the des… Of him that writes. It is the com…
Il sabio mude conseio: Il loco pe… We lov’d as friends now twenty yea… Is’t time or reason think you to g… When though two prentiships set J… I have not held my Rachel dear at…
Not knowing who should my Acquitt… I know as little what discharge to… The favour is so great, that it ou… All forms of thankfulness I can p… Those grateful levies which my pen…
The man is blest whose feet not tr… By wicked counsailes led: Nor stands in that perverted way, In which the Sinners stray; Nor joynes himselfe unto the chair…
So breaks the day when the returni… Hath newly through his Winter Tro… As You (Great Sir!) in this regr… From the remoter Climate of the N… To tell You now what cares, what…
I envy not thy mortal triumphs, D… (Thou enemy to Vertue as to Breat… Nor do I wonder much, nor yet com… The weekly numbers by thy arrow sl… The whole world is thy Factory, a…
Fond Lunatick forbear, why do’st… For thy affections pay e’re it is… Loves fruits are legal use; and th… Be onely taken on the marriage day… Who for this interest too early ca…
Like to the falling of a star, Or as the flights of eagles are, Or like the fresh spring’s gaudy h… Or silver drops of morning dew, Or like a wind that chafes the flo…
TELL me no more how fair she is, I have no minde to hear The story of that distant bliss I never shall come near: By sad experience I have found
So Diamonds sparkle, and thy Mist… When tis not Fire but light in ei… Beauty not thaw’d by lustful flame… Like a fair mountain of unmelted s… Nor can the tasted vine more dange…
If in this Glass of Humours you d… The Passions or diseases of your… Here without pain, you safely may… Though not to suffer, yet to read… But if you nothing meet you can ap…
VVhen your fair hand receives thi… You must not there for prose or ve… Those empty regions which within y… May by your self planted and peopl… And though we scarce allow your se…
VVhether thy Fathers, or diseases… More mortal prov’d to thy unhappy… Our sorrow needs not question; sin… Is known for length and sharpness… Thy Feaver yet was kind; which th…