#EnglishWriters
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…
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…
Busy old fool, unruly sun, Why dost thou thus, Through windows, and through curta… Must to thy motions lovers’ season… Saucy pedantic wretch, go chide
As due by many titles I resign My self to Thee, O God; first I… By Thee, and for Thee, and when… Thy blood bought that, the which b… I am Thy son, made with Thy Self…
No man is an island entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were...
SEND me some tokens, that my hop… Or that my easeless thoughts may s… Send me some honey, to make sweet… That in my passions I may hope th… I beg nor ribbon wrought with thin…
If yet I have not all thy love, Dear, I shall never have it all; I cannot breathe one other sigh, t… Nor can intreat one other tear to… And all my treasure, which should…
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…
For God’s sake hold your tongue,… Or chide my palsy, or my gout, My five gray hairs, or ruined fort… With wealth your state, your mind… Take you a course, get you a place…
WILT thou forgive that sinn, whe… Which is my sinn, though it were d… Wilt thou forgive those sinns thro… And doe run still, though still I… When thou has done, thou hast not…
‘Tis true, ‘tis day, what though i… O wilt thou therefore rise from me… Why should we rise because ‘tis li… Did we lie down because ‘twas nigh… Love, which in spite of darkness b…
Nature’s lay idiot, I taught thee… And in that sophistry, oh, thou do… Too subtle: Fool, thou didst not… The mystic language of the eye nor… Nor couldst thou judge the differe…
SEND home my long stray’d eyes t… Which, O! too long have dwelt on… Yet since there they have learn’d… Such forced fashions, And false passions,
I long to talk with some old lover… Who died before the god of love wa… I cannot think that he, who then l… Sunk so low as to love one which d… But since this god produc’d a dest…
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’…