#EnglishWriters
Whoever comes to shroud me, do not… Nor question much That subtle wreath of hair, which… The mystery, the sign, you must no… For 'tis my outward soul,
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
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…
Twice or thrice had I lov’d thee, Before I knew thy face or name; So in a voice, so in a shapeless f… Angels affect us oft, and worshipp… Still when, to where thou wert, I…
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…
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…
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
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…
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,
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
I am unable, yonder beggar cries, To stand, or move; if he say true,…
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…
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
Mark but this flea, and mark in th… How little that which thou deniest… Me it sucked first, and now sucks… And in this flea our two bloods mi… Thou know’st that this cannot be s…
Show me dear Christ, thy spouse s… What! is it she which on the other… Goes richly painted? or which, rob… Laments and mourns in Germany and… Sleeps she a thousand, then peeps…