#EnglishWriters
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’…
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…
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,
Go and catch a falling star, Get with child a mandrake root, Tell me where all past years are, Or who cleft the devil’s foot, Teach me to hear mermaids singing,
Father, part of his double interes… Unto thy kingdom, thy Son gives t… His jointure in the knotty Trinit… He keeps, and gives to me his deat… This Lamb, whose death with life…
When my grave is broke up again Some second guest to entertain, (For graves have learn’d that woma… To be to more than one a bed) And he that digs it, spies
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…
This is my play’s last scene; here… My pilgrimage’s last mile; and my… Idly, yet quickly run, hath this l… My span’s last inch, my minute’s l… And gluttonous death will instantl…
I am unable, yonder beggar cries, To stand, or move; if he say true,…
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…
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
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…
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…
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?
Let me pour forth My tears before thy face, whilst… For thy face coins them, and thy s… And by this mintage they are somet… For thus they be