#EnglishWriters
Give me my scallop shell of quiet, My staff of faith to walk upon, My scrip of joy, immortal diet, My bottle of salvation, My gown of glory, hope’s true gage…
What is our life? A play of passi… Our mirth the music of division, Our mother’s wombs the tiring—hous… Where we are dressed for this shor… Heaven the judicious sharp spectat…
Like truthless dreams, so are my j… And past return are all my dandled… My love misled, and fancy quite re… Of all which pass’d the sorrow onl… My lost delights, now clean from s…
Rise, O my soul! with thy desires… And with divinest contemplation us… Thy time, when time’s eternity is… And let vain thoughts no more thy… But down in darkness let them lie;
Even such is time, which takes in… Our youth, our joys, and all we ha… And pays us but with age and dust, Who in the dark and silent grave When we have wandered all our ways
Prais’d be Diana’s fair and harml… Prais’d be the dews wherewith she… Prais’d be her beams, the glory of… Prais’d be her power by which all… Prais’d be her nymphs with whom sh…
Now Serena be not coy, Since we freely may enjoy Sweet embraces, such delights, As will shorten tedious nights. Think that beauty will not stay
Methought I saw the grave where L… Within that temple where the vesta… Was wont to burn; and, passing by… To see that buried dust of living… Whose tomb fair Love, and fairer…
But stay, my thoughts, make end, g… Harsh is the voice of woe and sorr… Complaints cure not, and tears do… Griefs for a time, which after mor… To seek for moisture in the Arabi…
Fortune hath taken thee away, my l… My life’s soul and my soul’s heave… Fortune hath taken thee away, my p… My only light and my true fancy’s… Fortune hath taken all away from m…
IF all the world and love were yo… And truth in every shepherd’s tong… These pretty pleasures might me mo… To live with thee and be thy Love… But Time drives flocks from field…
PASSIONS are liken’d best to f… The shallow murmur, but the deep a… So, when affection yields discours… The bottom is but shallow whence t… They that are rich in words, in wo…
Your dog is not a dog of grace; He does not wag the tail or beg; He bit Miss Dickson in the face; He bit a Bailie in the leg. What tragic choices such a dog
Now what is Love, I pray thee, te… It is that fountain and that well Where pleasure and repentance dwel… It is, perhaps, the sauncing bell That tolls all into heaven or hell…