#EnglishWriters
The mellow touch of music most dot… The soul, when it doth rather sigh…
What though the sea be calm? Tru… Ships have been drown’d, where lat…
Droop, droop no more, or hang the… Ye roses almost withered; Now strength, and newer purple get… Each here declining violet. O primroses! let this day be
Come, bring your sampler, and with… Draw in’t a wounded heart, And dropping here and there; Not that I think that any dart Can make your’s bleed a tear,
Knew’st thou one month would take… Thou’dst weep; but laugh, should i…
Let’s live in haste; use pleasures… Could life return, 'twould never l…
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…
These fresh beauties, we can prove… Once were virgins, sick of love, Turn’d to flowers: still in some, Colours go and colours come.
Weigh me the fire; or canst thou f… A way to measure out the wind? Distinguish all those floods that… Mixed in that wat’ry theater, And taste thou them as saltless th…
Life is the body’s light; which, o… Those crimson clouds i’ th’ cheeks… Those counter-changed tabbies in t… The sun once set, all of one colou… So, when death comes, fresh tinctu…
Whatsoever thing I see, Rich or poor although it be, —'Tis a mistress unto me. Be my girl or fair or brown, Does she smile, or does she frown;
Still to our gains our chief respe… Reward it is that makes us good or…
Play, Phoebus, on thy lute, And we will sit all mute; By listening to thy lyre, That sets all ears on fire. Hark, hark! the God does play!
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…
Old Parson Beanes hunts six days… And on the seventh, he has his not… Six days he hollows so much breath… That on the seventh he can nor pre…