#EnglishWriters
O all ye Nations record, The Praises of the Lord; Ye people through the Universe, Your Makers praise rehearse. For He to us great kindness shewe…
MY once dear love, hapless that I… Must call thee so, the rich affect… That fed our hope lies now exhaust… Like sums of treasure unto bankrup… We, that did nothing study but the…
WE, that did nothing study but th… To love each other, with which tho… Rose with delight to us and with t… Must learn the hateful art, how to… We, that did nothing wish that He…
Like an Oblation set before a Shr… Fair One! I offer up this heart o… Whether the Saint accept my Gift… Ile neither fear nor doubt before… For he whose faint distrust preven…
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…
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
I know no fitter subject for your… Then this, a meditation ripe for y… As you for it. Which when you rea… What kind of wife your self will o… Which happy day be neer you, and m…
It is, Sir, a confest intrusion h… That I before your labours do app… Which no loud Herald need, that m… Or seek acceptance, but the Autho… Much less that should this happy w…
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…
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
Pursue no more (my thoughts!) that… You may assoon imprison the North… Or catch the Lightning as it leap… The leading billow first ran down… Or undertake the flying clouds to…
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…
Life is a crooked Labyrinth, and… Are daily lost in that Obliquity. ’Tis a perplexed circle, in whose… Nothing but sorrows and new sins a… How is the faint impression of eac…
Splendidis longum valedico nugis. Farewell fond Love, under whose c… I have serv’d out a weary Prentis… Thou that hast made me thy scorn’d… To dote on Rocks, but yielding Lo…
At this glad Triumph, when most P… Their quill, I did not bridle up… For sloth or less devotion. I am… That can well keep my Holy-dayes… That can the blessings of my King…