#EnglishWriters
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,…
No spring nor summer beauty hath s… As I have seen in one autumnal fa… Young beauties force our love, and… This doth but counsel, yet you can… If ‘twere a shame to love, here ’t…
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
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…
Some that have deeper digg’d love’… Say, where his centric happiness d… I have lov’d, and got, and told, But should I love, get, tell, til… I should not find that hidden myst…
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
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…
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…
Out of a fired ship, which by no w… But drowning could be rescued from… Some men leap’d forth, and ever as… Near the foes’ ships, did by their… So all were lost, which in the shi…
Our storm is past, and that storm’… A stupid calm, but nothing it, dot… The fable is inverted, and far mor… A block afflicts, now, than a stor… Storms chafe, and soon wear out th…
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…
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’…
O might those sighs and tears retu… Into my breast and eyes, which I… That I might in this holy discont… Mourn with some fruit, as I have… In mine Idolatry what showers of…
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…