#EnglishWriters
Lady, your words do spite me, Yet your sweet lips, so soft, kiss… Your deeds my heart surcharg’d wit… Your taunts my life destroying. Since both have force to spill me,
Weep, O mine eyes and cease not, Out alas, these your spring tides… O when begin you to swell so high that I may drown…
What needeth all this travail and… Shortening the life’s pleasure To seek this far-fetched treasure In those hot climates under Phoeb…
Ah! cruel Amarillis, since thou t… To hear the accents of a doleful d… To triumph still without remorse o… I loathe this life, death must my… And lest vain hope my miseries ren…
Fly not so swift, my dear, behold… If not a smiling glance for all my… Yet kill me with thy frowns. The Satyrs o’er the lawns full ni… Frisk it apace to view thy beauty’…
Ye that do live in pleasures plent… and dwell in Music’s sweetest Air… whose eyes are quick, whose ears a… not clogg’d with earth or worldly… come sing this song, made in Amphi…
Softly, O! dropp mine eyes, lest… And make my heart with grief to me… Now pour out tears apace, Now stay, O heavy case! O sour sweet woe!
When shall my wretched life give p… That my sad cares may be enforc’… Come, saddest shadow, stop my vita… For I am thine, then let not care… Of thy sad thrall but, with thy fa…
Hard destinies are love and beauty… Fair Daphne so disdainful! Cupid, thy shafts are too unjustly… Fond love, thy wounds are painful: But sith my lovely jewel
O wretched man! Why lov’st thou… Which nought enjoys but cares and… What pleasure here, but breeds a w… What hour’s ease, that anguish d… No earthly joys, but have their di…
Long have I made these hills and… With noise of these my shrieks and… She only, who should make me merry… Hears not my prayer: That I, alas! misfortune’s son an…
So light is love, in matchless bea… When she revisits Cypris’ hallow’… Two feeble doves, harness’d in sil… Can draw her chariot 'midst the P… Lightness to love, how ill it fitt…
My throat is sore, my voice is hoa… My rests are sighs, deep from the… My song runs all on sharps, and wi… Time on my breast, I shrink with… Thus still, and still I sing, and…
Dear pity, how, ah! how, wouldst t… That best becometh beauty’s best a… Shall my desert deserve no favour… But still to waste myself in deep… Like him who calls to echo to reli…
There, where I saw her lovely bea… Where, Venus-like, my sacred godd… There, with *precellent object min… That fair, but fatal star, my dole… As soon as morning in her light ap…