#EnglishWriters
Go, happy Rose, and interwove With other flowers, bind my Love. Tell her, too, she must not be Longer flowing, longer free, That so oft has fetter’d me.
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 the…
Charms, that call down the moon fr… On this sick youth work your encha… Bind up his senses with your numbe… As to entrance his pain, or cure h… Fall gently, gently, and a-while h…
Let’s call for Hymen if agreed th… Delays in love but crucify the hea… Love’s thorny tapers yet neglected… Speak thou the word, they’ll kindl… The nimble hours woo us on to wed,
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
Julia, I bring To thee this ring, Made for thy finger fit; To show by this That our love is
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
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,
HERE a pretty baby lies Sung asleep with lullabies: Pray be silent and not stir Th’ easy earth that covers her.
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,
Down with the rosemary and bays, Down with the misletoe; Instead of holly, now up-raise The greener box, for show. The holly hitherto did sway;
Man is a watch, wound up at first,… Wound up again; Once down, he’s d… The watch once down, all motions t… The man’s pulse stopt, all passion…
In this world, the isle of dreams, While we sit by sorrow’s streams, Tears and terrors are our themes Reciting: But when once from hence we fly,
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,
Gather ye rose-buds 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…