#EnglishWriters
Here we are all, by day; by night… By dreams, each one into a several…
Though hourly comforts from the go… No life is yet life-proof from mis…
Ask me why I send you here This sweet Infanta of the year? Ask me why I send to you This Primrose, thus bepearl’d wit… I will whisper to your ears,—
When I thy parts run o’er, I can’… In any one, the least indecency; But every line and limb diffused t… A fair and unfamiliar excellence; So that the more I look, the more…
In this little Urne is laid Prewdence Baldwin (once my maid) From whose happy spark here let Spring the purple violet.
Here lies Jonson with the rest Of the poets; but the best. Reader, would’st thou more have kn… Ask his story, not this stone. That will speak what this can’t te…
In sober mornings do thou not rehe… The holy incantation of a verse; But when that men have both well d… Let my enchantments then be sung,… When laurel spurts i’ th’ fire, an…
To the Right Honourable Mildmay,… Come, sons of summer, by whose toi… We are the lords of wine and oil; By whose tough labours, and rough… We rip up first, then reap our lan…
Tears, though they’re here below t… Above, they are the Angels’ spice…
In prayer the lips ne’er act the w… Without the sweet concurrence of t…
I call, I call: who do ye call? The maids to catch this cowslip ba… But since these cowslips fading be… Troth, leave the flowers, and maid… Yet, if that neither you will do,
When I thy singing next shall hea… I’ll wish I might turn all to ear… To drink-in notes and numbers, suc… As blessed souls can’t hear too mu… Then melted down, there let me lie
In man, ambition is the common’st… Each one by nature loves to be a k…
Cupid as he lay among Roses, by a Bee was stung. Whereupon in anger flying To his Mother, said thus crying; Help! O help! your Boy’s a dying.
Let us, though late, at last, my… And loving lie in one devoted bed. Thy watch may stand, my minutes fl… No sound calls back the year that… Then, sweetest Silvia, let’s no l…