#RhymedStanza
The Turn Brave infant of Saguntum, clear Thy coming forth in that great yea… When the prodigious Hannibal did… His rage with razing your immortal…
Drink to me, only, with thine eyes… And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kisse but in the cup, And Ile not look for wine. The thirst, that from the soule do…
Walking, snow falling, it is possi… to focus at various distances in turn on separate flakes, sharpl… the attention at several spatial p… the nearer cold and more uncomfort…
Where dost thou careless lie, Buried in ease and sloth? Knowledge that sleeps doth die; And this security, It is the common moth
Some act of Love’s bound to reherse, I thought to bind him, in my verse… Which when he felt, Away (quoth h…
Why do we lie ‘Why do we lie,’ she questioned, h… on the grey Autumn wind and its co… ‘all afternoon wasted in bed like… ‘Because we cannot lie all night t…
Drinke to me, onely, with thine ey… And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kisse but in the cup, And Ile not looke for wine. The thirst, that from the soule do…
Pray thee, take care, that tak’st… To read it well: that is, to under…
It is usual for people in this country (out of pretended respect but rather from an impertinent cur… to desire to see
See the chariot at hand here of L… Wherein my lady rideth! Each that draws is a swan or a dov… And well the car Love guideth. As she goes, all hearts do duty
The Turn Brave infant of Saguntum, clear Thy coming forth in that great yea… When the prodigious Hannibal did… His rage, with razing your immorta…
To the Immortal Memory and Frien… Cary and Sir Henry Morison. THE TURN. Brave infant of Saguntum, clear Thy coming forth in that great yea…
Let it not your wonder move, Less your laughter, that I love. Though I now write fifty years, I have had, and have, my peers; Poets, though divine, are men,
Have you seen but a bright lily gr… Before rude hands have touched it? Have you marked but the fall of sn… Before the soil hath smutched it? Have you felt the wool of beaver,
The ports of death are sins; of li… Through which our merit leads us t… How wilful blind is he, then, that… And hath it in his powers to make… This world death’s region is, the…