#EnglishWriters
I bring ye love. QUES. What wi… ANS. Like, and dislike ye. I bring ye love. QUES. What wi… ANS. Stroke ye, to strike ye. I bring ye love. QUES. What wi…
Want is a softer wax, that takes t… This, that, and every base impress…
1 Among thy fancies, tell me this… What is the thing we call a kiss? 2 I shall resolve ye what it is:— It is a creature born and bred Between the lips, all cherry-red,
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,
Bid me to live, and I will live Thy protestant to be; Or bid me love, and I will give A loving heart to thee. A heart as soft, a heart as kind,
Ah, my Perilla! dost thou grieve… Me, day by day, to steal away from… Age calls me hence, and my gray ha… And haste away to mine eternal hom… ‘Twill not be long, Perilla, afte…
Come, bring with a noise, My merry, merry boys, The Christmas log to the firing, While my good dame, she Bids ye all be free,
Be the mistress of my choice, Clean in manners, clear in voice; Be she witty, more than wise, Pure enough, though not precise; Be she showing in her dress,
SWEET western wind, whose luck i… Made rival with the air, To give Perenna’s lip a kiss, And fan her wanton hair: Bring me but one, I’ll promise th…
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,—
By those soft tods of wool, With which the air is full; By all those tinctures there That paint the hemisphere; By dews and drizzling rain,
Scobble for whoredom whips his wif… He’ll slit her nose; but blubberin… “Good sir, make no more cuts i’ th… One slit’s enough to let adultery…
First, for effusions due unto the… My solemn vows have here accomplis… Next, how I love thee, that my gr… Wherein thou liv’st for ever.—Dea…
If after rude and boisterous seas My wearied pinnace here finds ease… If so it be I’ve gain’d the shore… With safety of a faithful oar; If having run my barque on ground,
Only a little more I have to write: Then I’ll give o’er, And bid the world good-night. ’Tis but a flying minute,