#EnglishWriters
Make haste away, and let one be A friendly patron unto thee; Lest, rapt from hence, I see thee… Torn for the use of pastery; Or see thy injured leaves serve we…
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,
For those my unbaptized rhymes, Writ in my wild unhallowed times, For every sentence, clause, and wo… That’s not inlaid with Thee, my L… Forgive me, God, and blot each li…
I sing of brooks, of blossoms, bir… Of April, May, of June, and July… I sing of May—poles, hock—carts,… Of bridegrooms, brides, and of the… I write of youth, of love, and hav…
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, Old time is still a-flying: And this same flower that smiles t… To-morrow will be dying. The glorious lamp of heaven, the s…
Holy-Rood, come forth and shield Us i’ th’ city and the field; Safely guard us, now and aye, From the blast that burns by day; And those sounds that us affright
God will have all, or none; serve… Down before Baal, Bel, or Belial… Either be hot, or cold: God doth… Abhorre, and spew out all Neutral…
How Love came in, I do not know, Whether by th’eye, or ear, or no; Or whether with the soul it came, At first, infused with the same; Whether in part ’tis here or there…
Fled are the frosts, and now the f… Reclothed in fresh and verdant dia… Thaw’d are the snows; and now the… Gives to each mead a neat enamelli… The palms put forth their gems, an…
From the dull confines of the droo… To see the day spring from the pre… Ravish’d in spirit, I come, nay m… To thee, blest place of my nativit… Thus, thus with hallow’d foot I t…
While the milder fates consent, Let’s enjoy our merriment: Drink, and dance, and pipe, and pl… Kiss our dollies night and day: Crowned with clusters of the vine,
Droop, droop no more, or hang the… Ye roses almost withered; Now strength, and newer purple get… Each here declining violet. O primroses! let this day be
Please your Grace, from out your… Give an alms to one that’s poor, That your mickle may have more. Black I’m grown for want of meat, Give me then an ant to eat,
Biancha, let Me pay the debt I owe thee for a kiss Thou lend’st to me; And I to thee
Time was upon The wing, to fly away; And I call’d on Him but awhile to stay; But he’d be gone,