#EnglishWriters
Man knows where first he ships him… Never can tell where shall his lan…
Frolic virgins once these were, Overloving, living here; Being here their ends denied Ran for sweet-hearts mad, and died… Love, in pity of their tears,
IN the hour of my distress, When temptations me oppress, And when I my sins confess, Sweet Spirit, comfort me! When I lie within my bed,
What will ye, my poor orphans, do, When I must leave the world and y… Who’ll give ye then a sheltering s… Or credit ye, when I am dead? Who’ll let ye by their fire sit,
Since to the country first I came… I have lost my former flame; And, methinks, I not inherit, As I did, my ravish’d spirit. If I write a verse or two,
Sadly I walk’d within the field, To see what comfort it would yield… And as I went my private way, An olive-branch before me lay; And seeing it, I made a stay,
Tell, if thou canst, and truly, wh… This camphire, storax, spikenard,… These musks, these ambers, and tho… Sweet as the Vestry of the Oracle… I’ll tell thee:—while my Julia di…
Orpheus he went, as poets tell, To fetch Eurydice from hell; And had her, but it was upon This short, but strict condition; Backward he should not look, while…
Bacchus, let me drink no more! Wild are seas that want a shore! When our drinking has no stint, There is no one pleasure in’t. I have drank up for to please
O years! and age! farewell: Behold I go, Where I do know Infinity to dwell. And these mine eyes shall see
Cherry-ripe, ripe, ripe, I cry, Full and fair ones; come, and buy: If so be you ask me where They do grow? I answer, there Where my Julia’s lips do smile;—
You say you’re sweet: how should… Whether that you be sweet or no? —From powders and perfumes keep fr… Then we shall smell how sweet you…
Julia, if I chance to die Ere I print my poetry, I most humbly thee desire To commit it to the fire: Better ’twere my book were dead,
Let fair or foul my mistress be, Or low, or tall, she pleaseth me; Or let her walk, or stand, or sit, The posture her’s, I’m pleased wi… Or let her tongue be still, or sti…
One night i’th’ year, my dearest… And bring those dew-drink-offering… When thence ye see my reverend gho… And there to lick th’ effused sacr… Though paleness be the livery that…