#EnglishWriters
Come thou, who art the wine and wi… Of all I’ve writ; The grace, the glory, and the best Piece of the rest; Thou art of what I did intend
In all thy need, be thou possest Still with a well prepared breast; Nor let the shackles make thee sad… Thou canst but have what others ha… And this for comfort thou must kno…
HAVE ye beheld (with much deligh… A red rose peeping through a white… Or else a cherry, double grac’d, Within a lily centre plac’d? Or ever mark’d the pretty beam
Nothing comes free-cost here; Jov… His gifts go from him, if not boug…
Twixt truth and error, there’s thi… Error is fruitful, truth is only o…
Frolic virgins once these were, Overloving, living here; Being here their ends denied Ran for sweet-hearts mad, and died… Love, in pity of their tears,
Be my mistress short or tall And distorted therewithall Be she likewise one of those That an acre hath of nose Be her teeth ill hung or set
Here she lies, in bed of spice, Fair as Eve in paradise; For her beauty, it was such, Poets could not praise too much. Virgins come, and in a ring
You have beheld a smiling rose When virgins’ hands have drawn O’er it a cobweb-lawn: And here, you see, this lily shows… Tomb’d in a crystal stone,
Let fair or foul my mistress be, Or low, or tall, she pleaseth me; Or let her walk, or stand, or sit, The posture her’s, I’m pleased wi… Or let her tongue be still, or sti…
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,
Man is composed here of a twofold… The first of nature, and the next… Art presupposes nature; nature, sh… Prepares the way for man’s docilit…
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…
Sapho, I will chuse to go Where the northern winds do blow Endless ice, and endless snow; Rather than I once would see But a winter’s face in thee,—
Ah Ben! Say how, or when Shall we thy guests Meet at those lyric feasts Made at the Sun,