#EnglishWriters
No fault in women, to refuse The offer which they most would ch… —No fault: in women, to confess How tedious they are in their dres… —No fault in women, to lay on
Though frankincense the deities re… We must not give all to the hallow… Such be our gifts, and such be our… As for ourselves to leave some fra…
Ah, Cruel Love! must I endure Thy many scorns, and find no cure? Say, are thy medicines made to be Helps to all others but to me? I’ll leave thee, and to Pansies c…
Men say you’re fair; and fair ye a… But, hark! we praise the painter…
That hour-glass which there you se… With water fill’d, sirs, credit me… The humour was, as I have read, But lovers’ tears incrystalled. Which, as they drop by drop do pas…
HERE a pretty baby lies Sung asleep with lullabies: Pray be silent and not stir Th’ easy earth that covers her.
Here, a little child, I stand, Heaving up my either hand: Cold as paddocks though they be, Here I lift them up to thee, For a benison to fall
Truth by her own simplicity is kno… Falsehood by varnish and vermilion…
Thou art to all lost love the best… The only true plant found, Wherewith young men and maids dist… And left of love, are crown’d. When once the lover’s rose is dead
Blessings in abundance come To the bride and to her groom ; May the bed and this short night Know the fulness of delight! Pleasure many here attend ye,
As shews the air when with a rain-… So smiles that ribbon 'bout my Ju… Or like——Nay, ’tis that Zonulet o… Wherein all pleasures of the world…
Begin to charm, and as thou strok’… With thine enchantment, melt me in… Then let thy active hand scud o’er… And make my spirits frantic with t… That done, sink down into a silver…
In this little Urne is laid Prewdence Baldwin (once my maid) From whose happy spark here let Spring the purple violet.
Knew’st thou one month would take… Thou’dst weep; but laugh, should i…
O thou, the wonder of all days! O paragon, and pearl of praise! O Virgin-martyr, ever blest Above the rest Of all the maiden-train! We come…