#EnglishWriters
What, so beyond all madnesse is th… Now he hath got out of himself! His fatal enemy the Bee, Nor his deceiv’d artillerie, His shackles, nor the roses bough
Sweet serene skye-like flower, Haste to adorn her bower; From thy long clowdy bed Shoot forth thy damaske head. II.
Amarantha sweet and faire, Ah brade no more that shining hair… As my curious hand or eye, Hovering round thee, let it flye. II.
IT was Amyntor’s Grove, that Chl… For ever Ecchoes and her Glories… Chloris, the gentlest Sheapherdes… That ever Lawnes and Lambes did b… Her Breath like to the whispering…
To My Noble Friend, Mr Charl… O thou that swing’st upon the wavi… Of some well-filled oaten beard, Drunk ev’ry night with a delicious… Dropped thee from heav’n, where no…
Hither with hallowed steps as is t… That must enshrine this saint with… And sad aspects as the dark vails… Virgins opprest, draw gently, gent… Enter the dismall chancell of this…
Why shouldst thou sweare I am for… Since thine I vow’d to be? Lady, it is already Morn, And ’twas last night I swore to t… That fond impossibility.
IN VIRGILIUM. PENTADII. Pastor, arator, eques; pavi, colui… Capras, rus, hostes; fronde, ligon… IN ENGLISH. A swain, hind, knight: I fed, til…
AUSONIUS LIB. I. EPIG. Thesauro invento qui limina mortis… Liquit ovans laqueum, quo perituru… At qui, quod terrae abdiderat, non… Quem laqueum invenit nexuit, et pe…
A Gentleman to give us somewhat n… Hath brought up Oxford with him t… Pray be not frighted—Tho the Scæn… The Universities, the Wits, the… The Lines each honest Englishman…
In mine one monument I lye, And in my self am buried; Sure, the quick lightning of her e… Melted my soul ith’ scabberd dead; And now like some pale ghost I wa…
FOR Cherries plenty, and for Cor… Enough for fifty, were there more… For Elles of Beere Flutes of Can… That well did wash downe pasties—m… For Peason, Chickens, sawces high…
See! with what constant motion Even and glorious, as the sunne, Gratiana steeres that noble frame, Soft as her breast, sweet as her v… That gave each winding law and poy…
I cannot tell, who loves the skele… Of a poor marmoset; nought but boa… Give me a nakednesse, with her clo… II. Such, whose white-sattin upper coa…
Thou snowy farme with thy five ten… Tell thy white mistris here was on… That call’d to pay his dayly rents… But she a-gathering flowr’s and he… And thou left voyd to rude possess…