#English #XVICentury #XVIICentury
What though the sea be calm? Tru… Ships have been drown’d, where lat…
From noise of scare-fires rest ye… From murders, Benedicite; From all mischances that may frigh… Your pleasing slumbers in the nigh… Mercy secure ye all, and keep
In man, ambition is the common’st… Each one by nature loves to be a k…
Here a little child I stand Heaving up my either hand; Cold as paddocks though they be, Here I lift them up to Thee, For a benison to fall
Honour to you who sit Near to the well of wit, And drink your fill of it! Glory and worship be To you, sweet Maids, thrice three…
How Love came in, I do not know, Whether by th’ eye, or eare, or no… Or whether with the soule it came (At first) infused with the same: Whether in part ‘tis here or there…
Here lies Jonson with the rest Of the poets; but the best. Reader, would’st thou more have kn… Ask his story, not this stone. That will speak what this can’t te…
Who with a little cannot be conten… Endures an everlasting punishment.
Stay while ye will, or go, And leave no scent behind ye: Yet trust me, I shall know The place where I may find ye. Within my Lucia’s cheek,
Get up, get up for shame, the Blo… Upon her wings presents the god un… See how Aurora throwes her faire Fresh—quilted colours through the… Get up, sweet—Slug—a—bed, and see
Let us, though late, at last, my… And loving lie in one devoted bed. Thy watch may stand, my minutes fl… No sound calls back the year that… Then, sweetest Silvia, let’s no l…
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
Is this a life, to break thy sleep… To rise as soon as day doth peep? To tire thy patient ox or ass By noon, and let thy good days pas… Not knowing this, that Jove decre…
I ask’d thee oft what poets thou h… And lik’st the best? Still thou… —I shall, ere long, with green tur… Then sure thou’lt like, or thou wi…
Come, Anthea, let us two Go to feast, as others do: Tarts and custards, creams and cak… Are the junkets still at wakes; Unto which the tribes resort,