#EnglishWriters
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…
'Tis the year’s midnight, and it i… Lucy’s, who scarce seven hours her… The sun is spent, and now his flas… Send forth light squibs, no consta… The world’s whole sap is sunk;
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…
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?
All Kings, and all their favourit… All glory of honours, beauties, wi… The sun itself, which makes times,… Is elder by a year now than it was When thou and I first one another…
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…
Sweetest love, I do not go, For weariness of thee, Nor in hope the world can show A fitter love for me; But since that I
Thou hast made me, and shall thy w… Repair me now, for now mine end do… I run to death, and death meets me… And all my pleasures are like yest… I dare not move my dim eyes any wa…
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’ll tell thee now (dear Love) wh… To anger destiny, as she doth us, How I shall stay, though she eslo… And how posterity shall know it to… How thine may out-endure
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,
Come, Madam, come, all rest my po… Until I labour, I in labour lie. The foe oft—times having the foe i… Is tir’d with standing though he n… Off with that girdle, like heaven’…
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…
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 unable, yonder beggar cries, To stand, or move; if he say true,…