#EnglishWriters
Let’s call for Hymen if agreed th… Delays in love but crucify the hea… Love’s thorny tapers yet neglected… Speak thou the word, they’ll kindl… The nimble hours woo us on to wed,
LACON. For a kiss or two, conf… What doth cause this pensiveness, Thou most lovely neat-herdess? Why so lonely on the hill? Why thy pipe by thee so still,
About the sweet bag of a bee Two Cupids fell at odds; And whose the pretty prize should… They vow’d to ask the Gods. Which Venus hearing, thither came…
Under a lawn, than skies more clea… Some ruffled Roses nestling were, And snugging there, they seem’d to… As in a flowery nunnery; They blush’d, and look’d more fres…
Some ask’d me where the Rubies gr… And nothing I did say, But with my finger pointed to The lips of Julia. Some ask’d how Pearls did grow, a…
For brave comportment, wit without… Words fully flowing, yet of influe… Thou art that man of men, the man… Worthy the public admiration; Who with thine own eyes read’st wh…
Tears, though they’re here below t… Above, they are the Angels’ spice…
One silent night of late, When every creature rested, Came one unto my gate, And knocking, me molested. Who’s that, said I, beats there,
By those soft tods of wool, With which the air is full; By all those tinctures there That paint the hemisphere; By dews and drizzling rain,
If ye will with Mab find grace, Set each platter in his place; Rake the fire up, and get Water in, ere sun be set. Wash your pails and cleanse your d…
I dreamed this mortal part of mine Was metamorphosed to a vine, Which crawling one and every way Enthralled my dainty Lucia. Methought her long small legs and…
So smooth, so sweet, so silv’ry is… As, could they hear, the Damned w… But listen to thee (walking in thy… melting melodious words to Lutes o…
You may vow I’ll not forget To pay the debt Which to thy memory stands as due As faith can seal it you. —Take then tribute of my tears;
Come, Sons of Summer, by whose to… We are the lords of wine and oil: By whose tough labours, and rough… We rip up first, then reap our lan… Crown’d with the ears of corn, now…
I sing of brooks, of blossoms, bir… Of April, May, of June, and July… I sing of May—poles, hock—carts,… Of bridegrooms, brides, and of the… I write of youth, of love, and hav…