#EnglishWriters
One asked me where the roses grew: I bade him not go seek, But forwith bade my Julia show A bud in either cheek.
Good morrow to the day so fair; Good morning, sir, to you; Good morrow to mine own torn hair, Bedabbled with the dew. Good morning to this primrose too;
HERE a pretty baby lies Sung asleep with lullabies: Pray be silent and not stir Th’ easy earth that covers her.
Tell, if thou canst, and truly, wh… This camphire, storax, spikenard,… These musks, these ambers, and tho… Sweet as the Vestry of the Oracle… I’ll tell thee:—while my Julia di…
What can I do in poetry, Now the good spirit’s gone from me… Why, nothing now but lonely sit And over-read what I have writ.
HERE, Here I live with what my… Can with the smallest cost afford; Though ne’er so mean the viands be… They well content my Prue and me: Or pea or bean, or wort or beet,
I have been wanton, and too bold,… To chafe o’er-much the virgin’s ch… Beg for my pardon, Julia! he dot… Grace with the gods who’s sorry fo… That done, my Julia, dearest Juli…
One night i’th’ year, my dearest… And bring those dew-drink-offering… When thence ye see my reverend gho… And there to lick th’ effused sacr… Though paleness be the livery that…
Love is a circle, that doth restle… In the same sweet eternity of Lov…
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…
LACON. For a kiss or two, conf… What doth cause this pensiveness, Thou most lovely neat-herdess? Why so lonely on the hill? Why thy pipe by thee so still,
Why dost thou wound and break my h… As if we should for ever part? Hast thou not heard an oath from m… After a day, or two, or three, I would come back and live with th…
Since shed or cottage I have none… I sing the more, that thou hast on… To whose glad threshold, and free… I may a Poet come, though poor; And eat with thee a savoury bit,
Cherry-ripe, ripe, ripe, I cry, Full and fair ones; come, and buy: If so be you ask me where They do grow? I answer, there Where my Julia’s lips do smile;—
Though clock, To tell how night draws hence, I’… A cock I have to sing how day draws on: I have