#EnglishWriters
At the round earth’s imagined corn… Your trumpets, angels, and arise,… From death, you numberless infinit… Of souls, and to your scattered bo… All whom the flood did, and fire s…
Stand still, and I will read to t… A lecture, love, in love’s philoso… These three hours that we have spe… Walking here, two shadows went Along with us, which we ourselves…
‘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…
Forget this rotten world, and unto… Let thine own times as an old stor… Be not concern’d; study not why, n… Do not so much as not believe a ma… For though to err, be worst, to tr…
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...
Wilt thou forgive that sin where… Which was my sin, though it were d… Wilt thou forgive that sin, throug… And do run still, though still I… When thou hast done, thou hast not…
Wilt thou love God, as he thee? T… My soul, this wholesome meditation… How God the Spirit, by angels wai… In heaven, doth make his Temple i… The Father having begot a Son mos…
I can love both fair and brown, Her whom abundance melts, and her… Her who loves loneness best, and h… Her whom the country formed, and w… Her who believes, and her who trie…
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’…
As virtuous men pass mildly away, And whisper to their souls to go, Whilst some of their sad friends d… The breath goes now, and some say,… So let us melt, and make no noise,
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
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,…
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…
Since I am coming to that holy ro… Where, with thy choir of saints fo… I shall be made thy music; as I c… I tune the instrument here at the… And what I must do then, think he…
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,