#EnglishWriters
Sadly I walk’d within the field, To see what comfort it would yield… And as I went my private way, An olive-branch before me lay; And seeing it, I made a stay,
How rich and pleasing thou, my Ju… In each thy dainty and peculiar pa… First, for thy Queen-ship on thy… Of flowers a sweet commingled coro… About thy neck a carkanet is bound…
Good things, that come of course,… Than those which come by sweet con…
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…
Anthea laugh’d, and, fearing lest… Might stretch the cords of civil c… She with a dainty blush rebuked he… And call’d each line back to his r…
From this bleeding hand of mine, Take this sprig of Eglantine: Which, though sweet unto your smel… Yet the fretful briar will tell, He who plucks the sweets, shall pr…
Dull to myself, and almost dead to… My many fresh and fragrant mistres… Lost to all music now, since every… Puts on the semblance here of sorr… Sick is the land to th’ heart, and…
Be not proud, but now incline Your soft ear to discipline; You have changes in your life, Sometimes peace, and sometimes str… You have ebbs of face and flows,
Love in a shower of blossoms came Down, and half drown’d me with the… The blooms that fell were white an… But with such sweets commingled, As whether (this) I cannot tell,
Down with the rosemary, and so Down with the bays and misletoe; Down with the holly, ivy, all Wherewith ye dress’d the Christma… That so the superstitious find
Ah Ben! Say how or when Shall we, thy guests, Meet at those lyric feasts, Made at the Sun,
In this little Urne is laid Prewdence Baldwin (once my maid) From whose happy spark here let Spring the purple violet.
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, Old time is still a-flying: And this same flower that smiles t… To-morrow will be dying. The glorious lamp of heaven, the s…
Can I not sin, but thou wilt be My private protonotary? Can I not woo thee to pass by A short and sweet iniquity? I’ll cast a mist and cloud upon
In this world, the isle of dreams, While we sit by sorrow’s streams, Tears and terrors are our themes Reciting: But when once from hence we fly,