#English #Couplet #Epigram
Death, be not proud, though some h… Mighty and dreadful, for thou art… For those whom thou think’st thou… Die not, poor Death, nor yet cans… From rest and sleep, which but thy…
He is stark mad, whoever says, That he hath been in love an hour, Yet not that love so soon decays, But that it can ten in less space… Who will believe me, if I swear
Where, like a pillow on a bed A pregnant bank swell’d up to rest The violet’s reclining head, Sat we two, one another’s best. Our hands were firmly cemented
No man is an island, Entire of itself; Every man is a piece of the contin… A part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the se…
Oh my black soul! now art thou sum… By sickness, death’s herald, and c… Thou art like a pilgrim, which abr… Treason, and durst not turn to whe… Or like a thief, which till death’…
What if this present were the worl… Mark in my heart, O soul, where t… The picture of Christ crucified,… Whether that countenance can thee… Tears in his eyes quench the amazi…
When my grave is broke up again Some second guest to entertain, (For graves have learn’d that woma… To be to more than one a bed) And he that digs it, spies
When by thy scorn, O murd’ress, I… And that thou think’st thee free From all solicitation from me, Then shall my ghost come to thy be… And thee, feign’d vestal, in worse…
I am two fools, I know, For loving, and for saying so In whining poetry; But where’s that wiseman, that wou… If she would not deny?
O might those sighs and tears retu… Into my breast and eyes, which I… That I might in this holy discont… Mourn with some fruit, as I have… In mine Idolatry what showers of…
Here take my picture; though I bi… Thine, in my heart, where my soul… ‘Tis like me now, but I dead, ’tw… When we are shadows both, than 'tw… When weather—beaten I come back,…
When that rich soul which to her h… Whom all do celebrate, who know th… (For who is sure he hath a soul, u… It see, and judge, and follow wort… And by deeds praise it? He who do…
Kind pity chokes my spleen; brave… Those tears to issue which swell m… I must not laugh, nor weep sins an… Can railing, then, cure these worn… Is not our mistress, fair Religio…
Our storm is past, and that storm’… A stupid calm, but nothing it, dot… The fable is inverted, and far mor… A block afflicts, now, than a stor… Storms chafe, and soon wear out th…
No spring nor summer beauty hath s… As I have seen in one autumnal fa… Young beauties force our love, and… This doth but counsel, yet you can… If ‘twere a shame to love, here ’t…
