In summer’s heat and mid-time of the day To rest my limbs upon a bed I lay, One window shut, the other open stood, Which gave such light, as twinkles in a wood, Like twilight glimpse at setting of the sun, Or night being past, and yet not day begun.
Love is a great thing, yea, a great and thorough good. By itself it makes that which is heavy light; and it bears evenly all that is uneven. It carries a burden which is no burden; it will not be kept back by anything low and mean; It desires to
One day I wrote her name upon the strand But came the waves and washed it away: Agayne I wrote it with a second hand, But came the tyde, and made my paynes his pray. “Vayne man,” sayd she, “that doest in vaine assay, A mortall thing so to immortalize,
Leave me, O Love, which reachest but to dust, And thou my mind aspire to higher things: Grow rich in that which never taketh rust: Whatever fades, but fading pleasure brings. Draw in thy beams, and humble all thy might, To that sweet yoke, where lasting freedoms be: Which breaks
I care not for these ladies That must be wooed and prayed; Give me kind Amaryllis, The wanton country maid. Nature Art disdaineth; Her beauty is her own. Her when we court and kiss, She cries, “Forsooth, let go!” But when we come where comfort is, She never will say
My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun; Coral is far more red than her lips’ red; If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damasked, red and white, But no such roses see
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer’s lease hath all too short a date: Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimmed; And every