#English #XVICentury #XVIICentury
Why I tie about thy wrist, Julia, this silken twist; For what other reason ’tis But to show thee how, in part, Thou my pretty captive art?
Praise, they that will, times past… Myself now live; this age best ple…
A wearied pilgrim I have wander’d… Twice five-and-twenty, bate me but… Long I have lasted in this world;… But yet those years that I have l… Who by his gray hairs doth his lus…
Love, like a gipsy, lately came, And did me much importune To see my hand, that by the same He might foretell my fortune. He saw my palm; and then, said he,
Ah, Posthumus! our years hence f… And leave no sound: nor piety, Or prayers, or vow Can keep the wrinkle from the brow… But we must on,
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,
In sober mornings do thou not rehe… The holy incantation of a verse; But when that men have both well d… Let my enchantments then be sung,… When laurel spurts i’ th’ fire, an…
Happily I had a sight Of my dearest dear last night; Make her this day smile on me, And I’ll roses give to thee!
If thou dislik’st the piece thou l… Think that of all that I have wri… But if thou read’st my book unto t… And still dost this and that verse… O perverse man! If all disgustful…
Health is the first good lent to m… A gentle disposition then: Next, to be rich by no by-ways; Lastly, with friends t’ enjoy our…
A SWEET disorder in the dress Kindles in clothes a wantonness: A lawn about the shoulders thrown Into a fine distraction: An erring lace which here and ther…
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
Lord, Thou hast given me a cell Wherein to dwell, A little house, whose humble roof Is weather—proof: Under the spars of which I lie
True mirth resides not in the smil… The sweetest solace is to act no s…
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…
