'Tis liberty to serve one lord; but heWho many serves, serves base servility.
'Tis liberty to serve one lord; but heWho many serves, serves base servility.
'Tis liberty to serve one lord; but heWho many serves, serves base servility.
Bring the holy crust of bread,Lay it underneath the head;'Tis a certain charm to keepHags away, while children sleep.
Bring the holy crust of bread,Lay it underneath the head;'Tis a certain charm to keepHags away, while children sleep.
Bring the holy crust of bread,Lay it underneath the head;'Tis a certain charm to keepHags away, while children sleep.
Let the superstitious wifeNear the child's heart lay a knife:Point be up, and haft be down(While she gossips in the town);This, 'mongst other mystic charms,Keeps the sleeping child from harms.
Let the superstitious wifeNear the child's heart lay a knife:Point be up, and haft be down(While she gossips in the town);This, 'mongst other mystic charms,Keeps the sleeping child from harms.
Let the superstitious wifeNear the child's heart lay a knife:Point be up, and haft be down(While she gossips in the town);This, 'mongst other mystic charms,Keeps the sleeping child from harms.
To house the hag, you must do this:Commix with meal a little pissOf him bewitch'd; then forthwith makeA little wafer or a cake;And this rawly bak'd will bringThe old hag in. No surer thing.
To house the hag, you must do this:Commix with meal a little pissOf him bewitch'd; then forthwith makeA little wafer or a cake;And this rawly bak'd will bringThe old hag in. No surer thing.
To house the hag, you must do this:Commix with meal a little pissOf him bewitch'd; then forthwith makeA little wafer or a cake;And this rawly bak'd will bringThe old hag in. No surer thing.
Hang up hooks and shears to scareHence the hag that rides the mare,Till they be all over wetWith the mire and the sweat:This observ'd, the manes shall beOf your horses all knot-free.
Hang up hooks and shears to scareHence the hag that rides the mare,Till they be all over wetWith the mire and the sweat:This observ'd, the manes shall beOf your horses all knot-free.
Hang up hooks and shears to scareHence the hag that rides the mare,Till they be all over wetWith the mire and the sweat:This observ'd, the manes shall beOf your horses all knot-free.
Down with the rosemary and bays,Down with the mistletoe;Instead of holly, now up-raiseThe greener box, for show.The holly hitherto did sway;Let box now domineerUntil the dancing Easter day,Or Easter's eve appear.Then youthful box which now hath graceYour houses to renew;Grown old, surrender must his placeUnto the crisped yew.When yew is out, then birch comes in,And many flowers beside;Both of a fresh and fragrant kinTo honour Whitsuntide.Green rushes, then, and sweetest bents,With cooler oaken boughs,Come in for comely ornamentsTo re-adorn the house.Thus times do shift; each thing his turn does hold:New things succeed, as former things grow old.
Down with the rosemary and bays,Down with the mistletoe;Instead of holly, now up-raiseThe greener box, for show.The holly hitherto did sway;Let box now domineerUntil the dancing Easter day,Or Easter's eve appear.Then youthful box which now hath graceYour houses to renew;Grown old, surrender must his placeUnto the crisped yew.When yew is out, then birch comes in,And many flowers beside;Both of a fresh and fragrant kinTo honour Whitsuntide.Green rushes, then, and sweetest bents,With cooler oaken boughs,Come in for comely ornamentsTo re-adorn the house.Thus times do shift; each thing his turn does hold:New things succeed, as former things grow old.
Down with the rosemary and bays,Down with the mistletoe;Instead of holly, now up-raiseThe greener box, for show.
The holly hitherto did sway;Let box now domineerUntil the dancing Easter day,Or Easter's eve appear.
Then youthful box which now hath graceYour houses to renew;Grown old, surrender must his placeUnto the crisped yew.
When yew is out, then birch comes in,And many flowers beside;Both of a fresh and fragrant kinTo honour Whitsuntide.
Green rushes, then, and sweetest bents,With cooler oaken boughs,Come in for comely ornamentsTo re-adorn the house.Thus times do shift; each thing his turn does hold:New things succeed, as former things grow old.
Bents, grasses.
Kindle the Christmas brand, and thenTill sunset let it burn;Which quench'd, then lay it up againTill Christmas next return.Part must be kept wherewith to teendThe Christmas log next year,And where 'tis safely kept, the fiendCan do no mischief there.
Kindle the Christmas brand, and thenTill sunset let it burn;Which quench'd, then lay it up againTill Christmas next return.Part must be kept wherewith to teendThe Christmas log next year,And where 'tis safely kept, the fiendCan do no mischief there.
Kindle the Christmas brand, and thenTill sunset let it burn;Which quench'd, then lay it up againTill Christmas next return.Part must be kept wherewith to teendThe Christmas log next year,And where 'tis safely kept, the fiendCan do no mischief there.
End now the white loaf and the pie,And let all sports with Christmas die.
End now the white loaf and the pie,And let all sports with Christmas die.
End now the white loaf and the pie,And let all sports with Christmas die.
Teend, kindle.
Would I woo, and would I win?Would I well my work begin?Would I evermore be crownedWith the end that I propound?Would I frustrate or preventAll aspects malevolent?Thwart all wizards, and with theseDead all black contingencies:Place my words and all works elseIn most happy parallels?All will prosper, if so beI be kiss'd or bless'd by thee.
Would I woo, and would I win?Would I well my work begin?Would I evermore be crownedWith the end that I propound?Would I frustrate or preventAll aspects malevolent?Thwart all wizards, and with theseDead all black contingencies:Place my words and all works elseIn most happy parallels?All will prosper, if so beI be kiss'd or bless'd by thee.
Would I woo, and would I win?Would I well my work begin?Would I evermore be crownedWith the end that I propound?Would I frustrate or preventAll aspects malevolent?Thwart all wizards, and with theseDead all black contingencies:Place my words and all works elseIn most happy parallels?All will prosper, if so beI be kiss'd or bless'd by thee.
Put on thy holy filletings, and soTo th' temple with the sober midwife go.Attended thus, in a most solemn wise,By those who serve the child-bed mysteries,Burn first thine incense; next, whenas thou see'stThe candid stole thrown o'er the pious priest,With reverend curtsies come, and to him bringThy free (and not decurted) offering.All rites well ended, with fair auspice come(As to the breaking of a bride-cake) home,Where ceremonious Hymen shall for theeProvide a second epithalamy.She who keeps chastely to her husband's sideIs not for one, but every night his bride;And stealing still with love and fear to bed,Brings him not one, but many a maidenhead.
Put on thy holy filletings, and soTo th' temple with the sober midwife go.Attended thus, in a most solemn wise,By those who serve the child-bed mysteries,Burn first thine incense; next, whenas thou see'stThe candid stole thrown o'er the pious priest,With reverend curtsies come, and to him bringThy free (and not decurted) offering.All rites well ended, with fair auspice come(As to the breaking of a bride-cake) home,Where ceremonious Hymen shall for theeProvide a second epithalamy.She who keeps chastely to her husband's sideIs not for one, but every night his bride;And stealing still with love and fear to bed,Brings him not one, but many a maidenhead.
Put on thy holy filletings, and soTo th' temple with the sober midwife go.Attended thus, in a most solemn wise,By those who serve the child-bed mysteries,Burn first thine incense; next, whenas thou see'stThe candid stole thrown o'er the pious priest,With reverend curtsies come, and to him bringThy free (and not decurted) offering.All rites well ended, with fair auspice come(As to the breaking of a bride-cake) home,Where ceremonious Hymen shall for theeProvide a second epithalamy.She who keeps chastely to her husband's sideIs not for one, but every night his bride;And stealing still with love and fear to bed,Brings him not one, but many a maidenhead.
Candid, white.Decurted, curtailed.
Before the press scarce one could seeA little-peeping-part of thee;But since thou'rt printed, thou dost callTo show thy nakedness to all.My care for thee is now the less,Having resign'd thy shamefac'dness.Go with thy faults and fates; yet stayAnd take this sentence, then away:Whom one belov'd will not suffice,She'll run to all adulteries.
Before the press scarce one could seeA little-peeping-part of thee;But since thou'rt printed, thou dost callTo show thy nakedness to all.My care for thee is now the less,Having resign'd thy shamefac'dness.Go with thy faults and fates; yet stayAnd take this sentence, then away:Whom one belov'd will not suffice,She'll run to all adulteries.
Before the press scarce one could seeA little-peeping-part of thee;But since thou'rt printed, thou dost callTo show thy nakedness to all.My care for thee is now the less,Having resign'd thy shamefac'dness.Go with thy faults and fates; yet stayAnd take this sentence, then away:Whom one belov'd will not suffice,She'll run to all adulteries.
Tears most prevail; with tears, too, thou may'st moveRocks to relent, and coyest maids to love.
Tears most prevail; with tears, too, thou may'st moveRocks to relent, and coyest maids to love.
Tears most prevail; with tears, too, thou may'st moveRocks to relent, and coyest maids to love.
Words beget anger; anger brings forth blows;Blows make of dearest friends immortal foes.For which prevention, sociate, let there beBetwixt us two no more logomachy.Far better 'twere for either to be mute,Than for to murder friendship by dispute.
Words beget anger; anger brings forth blows;Blows make of dearest friends immortal foes.For which prevention, sociate, let there beBetwixt us two no more logomachy.Far better 'twere for either to be mute,Than for to murder friendship by dispute.
Words beget anger; anger brings forth blows;Blows make of dearest friends immortal foes.For which prevention, sociate, let there beBetwixt us two no more logomachy.Far better 'twere for either to be mute,Than for to murder friendship by dispute.
Logomachy, contention of words.
Truth is best found out by the time and eyes;Falsehood wins credit by uncertainties.
Truth is best found out by the time and eyes;Falsehood wins credit by uncertainties.
Truth is best found out by the time and eyes;Falsehood wins credit by uncertainties.
We credit most our sight; one eye doth pleaseOur trust far more than ten ear-witnesses.
We credit most our sight; one eye doth pleaseOur trust far more than ten ear-witnesses.
We credit most our sight; one eye doth pleaseOur trust far more than ten ear-witnesses.
Want is a softer wax, that takes thereonThis, that, and every base impression.
Want is a softer wax, that takes thereonThis, that, and every base impression.
Want is a softer wax, that takes thereonThis, that, and every base impression.
Look in my book, and herein seeLife endless signed to thee and me.We o'er the tombs and fates shall fly;While other generations die.
Look in my book, and herein seeLife endless signed to thee and me.We o'er the tombs and fates shall fly;While other generations die.
Look in my book, and herein seeLife endless signed to thee and me.We o'er the tombs and fates shall fly;While other generations die.
Should I not put on blacks, when each one hereComes with his cypress and devotes a tear?Should I not grieve, my Lawes, when every lute,Viol, and voice is by thy loss struck mute?Thy loss, brave man! whose numbers have been hurl'd,And no less prais'd than spread throughout the world.Some have thee call'd Amphion; some of usNam'd thee Terpander, or sweet Orpheus:Some this, some that, but all in this agree,Music had both her birth and death with thee.
Should I not put on blacks, when each one hereComes with his cypress and devotes a tear?Should I not grieve, my Lawes, when every lute,Viol, and voice is by thy loss struck mute?Thy loss, brave man! whose numbers have been hurl'd,And no less prais'd than spread throughout the world.Some have thee call'd Amphion; some of usNam'd thee Terpander, or sweet Orpheus:Some this, some that, but all in this agree,Music had both her birth and death with thee.
Should I not put on blacks, when each one hereComes with his cypress and devotes a tear?Should I not grieve, my Lawes, when every lute,Viol, and voice is by thy loss struck mute?Thy loss, brave man! whose numbers have been hurl'd,And no less prais'd than spread throughout the world.Some have thee call'd Amphion; some of usNam'd thee Terpander, or sweet Orpheus:Some this, some that, but all in this agree,Music had both her birth and death with thee.
Blacks, mourning garments.
From me my Silvia ran away,And running therewithalA primrose bank did cross her way,And gave my love a fall.But trust me now, I dare not sayWhat I by chance did see;But such the drap'ry did betrayThat fully ravished me.
From me my Silvia ran away,And running therewithalA primrose bank did cross her way,And gave my love a fall.But trust me now, I dare not sayWhat I by chance did see;But such the drap'ry did betrayThat fully ravished me.
From me my Silvia ran away,And running therewithalA primrose bank did cross her way,And gave my love a fall.
But trust me now, I dare not sayWhat I by chance did see;But such the drap'ry did betrayThat fully ravished me.
If thou hast found an honeycomb,Eat thou not all, but taste on some:For if thou eat'st it to excess,That sweetness turns to loathsomeness.Taste it to temper, then 'twill beMarrow and manna unto thee.
If thou hast found an honeycomb,Eat thou not all, but taste on some:For if thou eat'st it to excess,That sweetness turns to loathsomeness.Taste it to temper, then 'twill beMarrow and manna unto thee.
If thou hast found an honeycomb,Eat thou not all, but taste on some:For if thou eat'st it to excess,That sweetness turns to loathsomeness.Taste it to temper, then 'twill beMarrow and manna unto thee.
Here lies Jonson with the restOf the poets: but the best.Reader, would'st thou more have known?Ask his story, not this stone.That will speak what this can't tellOf his glory. So farewell.
Here lies Jonson with the restOf the poets: but the best.Reader, would'st thou more have known?Ask his story, not this stone.That will speak what this can't tellOf his glory. So farewell.
Here lies Jonson with the restOf the poets: but the best.Reader, would'st thou more have known?Ask his story, not this stone.That will speak what this can't tellOf his glory. So farewell.
Ah Ben!Say how, or whenShall we thy guestsMeet at those lyric feastsMade at the Sun,The Dog, the Triple Tun?Where we such clusters had,As made us nobly wild, not mad;And yet each verse of thineOut-did the meat, out-did the frolic wine.My Ben!Or come again,Or send to usThy wit's great overplus;But teach us yetWisely to husband it,Lest we that talent spend:And having once brought to an endThat precious stock; the storeOf such a wit the world should have no more.
Ah Ben!Say how, or whenShall we thy guestsMeet at those lyric feastsMade at the Sun,The Dog, the Triple Tun?Where we such clusters had,As made us nobly wild, not mad;And yet each verse of thineOut-did the meat, out-did the frolic wine.My Ben!Or come again,Or send to usThy wit's great overplus;But teach us yetWisely to husband it,Lest we that talent spend:And having once brought to an endThat precious stock; the storeOf such a wit the world should have no more.
Ah Ben!Say how, or whenShall we thy guestsMeet at those lyric feastsMade at the Sun,The Dog, the Triple Tun?Where we such clusters had,As made us nobly wild, not mad;And yet each verse of thineOut-did the meat, out-did the frolic wine.
My Ben!Or come again,Or send to usThy wit's great overplus;But teach us yetWisely to husband it,Lest we that talent spend:And having once brought to an endThat precious stock; the storeOf such a wit the world should have no more.
The Sun,etc., famous taverns.
Spend, harmless shade, thy nightly hoursSelecting here both herbs and flowers;Of which make garlands here and thereTo dress thy silent sepulchre.Nor do thou fear the want of theseIn everlasting properties,Since we fresh strewings will bring hither,Far faster than the first can wither.
Spend, harmless shade, thy nightly hoursSelecting here both herbs and flowers;Of which make garlands here and thereTo dress thy silent sepulchre.Nor do thou fear the want of theseIn everlasting properties,Since we fresh strewings will bring hither,Far faster than the first can wither.
Spend, harmless shade, thy nightly hoursSelecting here both herbs and flowers;Of which make garlands here and thereTo dress thy silent sepulchre.Nor do thou fear the want of theseIn everlasting properties,Since we fresh strewings will bring hither,Far faster than the first can wither.
In battles what disasters fall,The king he bears the blame of all.
In battles what disasters fall,The king he bears the blame of all.
In battles what disasters fall,The king he bears the blame of all.
Ponder my words, if so that any beKnown guilty here of incivility:Let what is graceless, discompos'd, and rude,With sweetness, smoothness, softness, be endu'd.Teach it to blush, to curtsy, lisp, and showDemure, but yet full of temptation, too.Numbers ne'er tickle, or but lightly please,Unless they have some wanton carriages.This if ye do, each piece will here be good,And graceful made by your neat sisterhood.
Ponder my words, if so that any beKnown guilty here of incivility:Let what is graceless, discompos'd, and rude,With sweetness, smoothness, softness, be endu'd.Teach it to blush, to curtsy, lisp, and showDemure, but yet full of temptation, too.Numbers ne'er tickle, or but lightly please,Unless they have some wanton carriages.This if ye do, each piece will here be good,And graceful made by your neat sisterhood.
Ponder my words, if so that any beKnown guilty here of incivility:Let what is graceless, discompos'd, and rude,With sweetness, smoothness, softness, be endu'd.Teach it to blush, to curtsy, lisp, and showDemure, but yet full of temptation, too.Numbers ne'er tickle, or but lightly please,Unless they have some wanton carriages.This if ye do, each piece will here be good,And graceful made by your neat sisterhood.
I lately fri'd, but now beholdI freeze as fast, and shake for cold.And in good faith I'd thought it strangeT' have found in me this sudden change;But that I understood by dreamsThese only were but Love's extremes;Who fires with hope the lover's heart,And starves with cold the self-same part.
I lately fri'd, but now beholdI freeze as fast, and shake for cold.And in good faith I'd thought it strangeT' have found in me this sudden change;But that I understood by dreamsThese only were but Love's extremes;Who fires with hope the lover's heart,And starves with cold the self-same part.
I lately fri'd, but now beholdI freeze as fast, and shake for cold.And in good faith I'd thought it strangeT' have found in me this sudden change;But that I understood by dreamsThese only were but Love's extremes;Who fires with hope the lover's heart,And starves with cold the self-same part.
We trust not to the multitude in war,But to the stout, and those that skilful are.
We trust not to the multitude in war,But to the stout, and those that skilful are.
We trust not to the multitude in war,But to the stout, and those that skilful are.
Man must do well out of a good intent;Not for the servile fear of punishment.
Man must do well out of a good intent;Not for the servile fear of punishment.
Man must do well out of a good intent;Not for the servile fear of punishment.
What! can my Kellam drink his sackIn goblets to the brim,And see his Robin Herrick lack,Yet send no bowls to him?For love or pity to his muse,That she may flow in verse,Contemn to recommend a cruse,But send to her a tierce.
What! can my Kellam drink his sackIn goblets to the brim,And see his Robin Herrick lack,Yet send no bowls to him?For love or pity to his muse,That she may flow in verse,Contemn to recommend a cruse,But send to her a tierce.
What! can my Kellam drink his sackIn goblets to the brim,And see his Robin Herrick lack,Yet send no bowls to him?
For love or pity to his muse,That she may flow in verse,Contemn to recommend a cruse,But send to her a tierce.
First, may the hand of bounty bringInto the daily offeringOf full provision such a store,Till that the cook cries: Bring no more.Upon your hogsheads never fallA drought of wine, ale, beer, at all;But, like full clouds, may they from thenceDiffuse their mighty influence.Next, let the lord and lady hereEnjoy a Christ'ning year by year;And this good blessing back them still,T' have boys, and girls too, as they will.Then from the porch may many a brideUnto the holy temple ride:And thence return, short prayers said,A wife most richly married.Last, may the bride and bridegroom beUntouch'd by cold sterility;But in their springing blood so play,As that in lusters few they may,By laughing too, and lying down,People a city or a town.
First, may the hand of bounty bringInto the daily offeringOf full provision such a store,Till that the cook cries: Bring no more.Upon your hogsheads never fallA drought of wine, ale, beer, at all;But, like full clouds, may they from thenceDiffuse their mighty influence.Next, let the lord and lady hereEnjoy a Christ'ning year by year;And this good blessing back them still,T' have boys, and girls too, as they will.Then from the porch may many a brideUnto the holy temple ride:And thence return, short prayers said,A wife most richly married.Last, may the bride and bridegroom beUntouch'd by cold sterility;But in their springing blood so play,As that in lusters few they may,By laughing too, and lying down,People a city or a town.
First, may the hand of bounty bringInto the daily offeringOf full provision such a store,Till that the cook cries: Bring no more.Upon your hogsheads never fallA drought of wine, ale, beer, at all;But, like full clouds, may they from thenceDiffuse their mighty influence.Next, let the lord and lady hereEnjoy a Christ'ning year by year;And this good blessing back them still,T' have boys, and girls too, as they will.Then from the porch may many a brideUnto the holy temple ride:And thence return, short prayers said,A wife most richly married.Last, may the bride and bridegroom beUntouch'd by cold sterility;But in their springing blood so play,As that in lusters few they may,By laughing too, and lying down,People a city or a town.
Wish, om. orig. ed.Lusters, quinquenniums.
The lictors bundled up their rods; beside,Knit them with knots with much ado unti'd,That if, unknitting, men would yet repent,They might escape the lash of punishment.
The lictors bundled up their rods; beside,Knit them with knots with much ado unti'd,That if, unknitting, men would yet repent,They might escape the lash of punishment.
The lictors bundled up their rods; beside,Knit them with knots with much ado unti'd,That if, unknitting, men would yet repent,They might escape the lash of punishment.
Men are suspicious, prone to discontent:Subjects still loathe the present government.
Men are suspicious, prone to discontent:Subjects still loathe the present government.
Men are suspicious, prone to discontent:Subjects still loathe the present government.
Lay by the good a while; a resting fieldWill, after ease, a richer harvest yield;Trees this year bear: next, they their wealth withhold:Continual reaping makes a land wax old.
Lay by the good a while; a resting fieldWill, after ease, a richer harvest yield;Trees this year bear: next, they their wealth withhold:Continual reaping makes a land wax old.
Lay by the good a while; a resting fieldWill, after ease, a richer harvest yield;Trees this year bear: next, they their wealth withhold:Continual reaping makes a land wax old.
Man's disposition is for to requiteAn injury, before a benefit:Thanksgiving is a burden and a pain;Revenge is pleasing to us, as our gain.
Man's disposition is for to requiteAn injury, before a benefit:Thanksgiving is a burden and a pain;Revenge is pleasing to us, as our gain.
Man's disposition is for to requiteAn injury, before a benefit:Thanksgiving is a burden and a pain;Revenge is pleasing to us, as our gain.
In all our high designments 'twill appear,The first event breeds confidence or fear.
In all our high designments 'twill appear,The first event breeds confidence or fear.
In all our high designments 'twill appear,The first event breeds confidence or fear.
Hard are the two first stairs unto a crown:Which got, the third bids him a king come down.
Hard are the two first stairs unto a crown:Which got, the third bids him a king come down.
Hard are the two first stairs unto a crown:Which got, the third bids him a king come down.
Faith is a thing that's four-square; let it fallThis way or that, it not declines at all.
Faith is a thing that's four-square; let it fallThis way or that, it not declines at all.
Faith is a thing that's four-square; let it fallThis way or that, it not declines at all.
Praise they that will times past; I joy to seeMyself now live:this age best pleaseth me.
Praise they that will times past; I joy to seeMyself now live:this age best pleaseth me.
Praise they that will times past; I joy to seeMyself now live:this age best pleaseth me.
Though from without no foes at all we fear,We shall be wounded by the clothes we wear.
Though from without no foes at all we fear,We shall be wounded by the clothes we wear.
Though from without no foes at all we fear,We shall be wounded by the clothes we wear.
'Tis but a dog-like madness in bad kings,For to delight in wounds and murderings:As some plants prosper best by cuts and blows,So kings by killing do increase their foes.
'Tis but a dog-like madness in bad kings,For to delight in wounds and murderings:As some plants prosper best by cuts and blows,So kings by killing do increase their foes.
'Tis but a dog-like madness in bad kings,For to delight in wounds and murderings:As some plants prosper best by cuts and blows,So kings by killing do increase their foes.
Tears quickly dry, griefs will in time decay:A clear will come after a cloudy day.
Tears quickly dry, griefs will in time decay:A clear will come after a cloudy day.
Tears quickly dry, griefs will in time decay:A clear will come after a cloudy day.
Ask me what hunger is, and I'll reply,'Tis but a fierce desire of hot and dry.
Ask me what hunger is, and I'll reply,'Tis but a fierce desire of hot and dry.
Ask me what hunger is, and I'll reply,'Tis but a fierce desire of hot and dry.
In this misfortune kings do most excel,To hear the worst from men when they do well.
In this misfortune kings do most excel,To hear the worst from men when they do well.
In this misfortune kings do most excel,To hear the worst from men when they do well.
Conquer we shall, but we must first contend;'Tis not the fight that crowns us, but the end.
Conquer we shall, but we must first contend;'Tis not the fight that crowns us, but the end.
Conquer we shall, but we must first contend;'Tis not the fight that crowns us, but the end.
Bind me but to thee with thine hair,And quickly I shall beMade by that fetter or that snareA bondman unto thee.Or if thou tak'st that bond away,Then bore me through the ear,And by the law I ought to stayFor ever with thee here.
Bind me but to thee with thine hair,And quickly I shall beMade by that fetter or that snareA bondman unto thee.Or if thou tak'st that bond away,Then bore me through the ear,And by the law I ought to stayFor ever with thee here.
Bind me but to thee with thine hair,And quickly I shall beMade by that fetter or that snareA bondman unto thee.Or if thou tak'st that bond away,Then bore me through the ear,And by the law I ought to stayFor ever with thee here.
Give house-room to the best;'tis never knownVirtue and pleasure both to dwell in one.
Give house-room to the best;'tis never knownVirtue and pleasure both to dwell in one.
Give house-room to the best;'tis never knownVirtue and pleasure both to dwell in one.
Pardon my trespass, Silvia; I confessMy kiss out-went the bounds of shamefastness:None is discreet at all times; no,not JoveHimself, at one time, can be wise and love.
Pardon my trespass, Silvia; I confessMy kiss out-went the bounds of shamefastness:None is discreet at all times; no,not JoveHimself, at one time, can be wise and love.
Pardon my trespass, Silvia; I confessMy kiss out-went the bounds of shamefastness:None is discreet at all times; no,not JoveHimself, at one time, can be wise and love.
Smooth was the sea, and seem'd to callTwo pretty girls to play withal:Who paddling there, the sea soon frown'd,And on a sudden both were drown'd.What credit can we give to seas,Who, kissing, kill such saints as these?
Smooth was the sea, and seem'd to callTwo pretty girls to play withal:Who paddling there, the sea soon frown'd,And on a sudden both were drown'd.What credit can we give to seas,Who, kissing, kill such saints as these?
Smooth was the sea, and seem'd to callTwo pretty girls to play withal:Who paddling there, the sea soon frown'd,And on a sudden both were drown'd.What credit can we give to seas,Who, kissing, kill such saints as these?
Fat be my hind; unlearned be my wife;Peaceful my night; my day devoid of strife:To these a comely offspring I desire,Singing about my everlasting fire.
Fat be my hind; unlearned be my wife;Peaceful my night; my day devoid of strife:To these a comely offspring I desire,Singing about my everlasting fire.
Fat be my hind; unlearned be my wife;Peaceful my night; my day devoid of strife:To these a comely offspring I desire,Singing about my everlasting fire.
Hind, country servant.
How fierce was I, when I did seeMy Julia wash herself in thee!So lilies thorough crystal look:So purest pebbles in the brook:As in the river Julia did,Half with a lawn of water hid.Into thy streams myself I threw,And struggling there, I kiss'd thee too;And more had done, it is confess'd,Had not thy waves forbade the rest.
How fierce was I, when I did seeMy Julia wash herself in thee!So lilies thorough crystal look:So purest pebbles in the brook:As in the river Julia did,Half with a lawn of water hid.Into thy streams myself I threw,And struggling there, I kiss'd thee too;And more had done, it is confess'd,Had not thy waves forbade the rest.
How fierce was I, when I did seeMy Julia wash herself in thee!So lilies thorough crystal look:So purest pebbles in the brook:As in the river Julia did,Half with a lawn of water hid.Into thy streams myself I threw,And struggling there, I kiss'd thee too;And more had done, it is confess'd,Had not thy waves forbade the rest.
Though frankincense the deities require,We must not give all to the hallowed fire.Such be our gifts, and such be our expense,As for ourselves to leave some frankincense.
Though frankincense the deities require,We must not give all to the hallowed fire.Such be our gifts, and such be our expense,As for ourselves to leave some frankincense.
Though frankincense the deities require,We must not give all to the hallowed fire.Such be our gifts, and such be our expense,As for ourselves to leave some frankincense.
A roll of parchment Clunn about him bears,Charg'd with the arms of all his ancestors:And seems half ravish'd, when he looks uponThat bar, this bend; that fess, this cheveron;This manch, that moon; this martlet, and that mound;This counterchange of pearl and diamond.What joy can Clunn have in that coat, or this,Whenas his own still out at elbows is?
A roll of parchment Clunn about him bears,Charg'd with the arms of all his ancestors:And seems half ravish'd, when he looks uponThat bar, this bend; that fess, this cheveron;This manch, that moon; this martlet, and that mound;This counterchange of pearl and diamond.What joy can Clunn have in that coat, or this,Whenas his own still out at elbows is?
A roll of parchment Clunn about him bears,Charg'd with the arms of all his ancestors:And seems half ravish'd, when he looks uponThat bar, this bend; that fess, this cheveron;This manch, that moon; this martlet, and that mound;This counterchange of pearl and diamond.What joy can Clunn have in that coat, or this,Whenas his own still out at elbows is?
Love, like a beggar, came to meWith hose and doublet torn:His shirt bedangling from his knee,With hat and shoes outworn.He ask'd an alms; I gave him bread,And meat too, for his need:Of which, when he had fully fed,He wished me all good speed.Away he went, but as he turn'd(In faith I know not how)He touch'd me so, as that I burn['d],And am tormented now.Love's silent flames and fires obscureThen crept into my heart;And though I saw no bow, I'm sureHis finger was the dart.
Love, like a beggar, came to meWith hose and doublet torn:His shirt bedangling from his knee,With hat and shoes outworn.He ask'd an alms; I gave him bread,And meat too, for his need:Of which, when he had fully fed,He wished me all good speed.Away he went, but as he turn'd(In faith I know not how)He touch'd me so, as that I burn['d],And am tormented now.Love's silent flames and fires obscureThen crept into my heart;And though I saw no bow, I'm sureHis finger was the dart.
Love, like a beggar, came to meWith hose and doublet torn:His shirt bedangling from his knee,With hat and shoes outworn.
He ask'd an alms; I gave him bread,And meat too, for his need:Of which, when he had fully fed,He wished me all good speed.
Away he went, but as he turn'd(In faith I know not how)He touch'd me so, as that I burn['d],And am tormented now.
Love's silent flames and fires obscureThen crept into my heart;And though I saw no bow, I'm sureHis finger was the dart.
I will confessWith cheerfulness,Love is a thing so likes me,That let her layOn me all day,I'll kiss the hand that strikes me.I will not, I,Now blubb'ring, cry,It, ah! too late repents me,That I did fallTo love at all,Since love so much contents me.No, no, I'll beIn fetters free:While others they sit wringingTheir hands for pain,I'll entertainThe wounds of love with singing.With flowers and wine,And cakes divine,To strike me I will tempt thee:Which done; no moreI'll come beforeThee and thine altars empty.
I will confessWith cheerfulness,Love is a thing so likes me,That let her layOn me all day,I'll kiss the hand that strikes me.I will not, I,Now blubb'ring, cry,It, ah! too late repents me,That I did fallTo love at all,Since love so much contents me.No, no, I'll beIn fetters free:While others they sit wringingTheir hands for pain,I'll entertainThe wounds of love with singing.With flowers and wine,And cakes divine,To strike me I will tempt thee:Which done; no moreI'll come beforeThee and thine altars empty.
I will confessWith cheerfulness,Love is a thing so likes me,That let her layOn me all day,I'll kiss the hand that strikes me.
I will not, I,Now blubb'ring, cry,It, ah! too late repents me,That I did fallTo love at all,Since love so much contents me.
No, no, I'll beIn fetters free:While others they sit wringingTheir hands for pain,I'll entertainThe wounds of love with singing.
With flowers and wine,And cakes divine,To strike me I will tempt thee:Which done; no moreI'll come beforeThee and thine altars empty.
For brave comportment, wit without offence,Words fully flowing, yet of influence:Thou art that man of men, the man alone,Worthy the public admiration:Who with thine own eyes read'st what we do write,And giv'st our numbers euphony and weight;Tell'st when a verse springs high, how understoodTo be, or not, born of the royal blood.What state above, what symmetry below,Lines have, or should have, thou the best can'st show.For which, my Charles, it is my pride to beNot so much known, as to be lov'd of thee.Long may I live so, and my wreath of baysBe less another's laurel than thy praise.
For brave comportment, wit without offence,Words fully flowing, yet of influence:Thou art that man of men, the man alone,Worthy the public admiration:Who with thine own eyes read'st what we do write,And giv'st our numbers euphony and weight;Tell'st when a verse springs high, how understoodTo be, or not, born of the royal blood.What state above, what symmetry below,Lines have, or should have, thou the best can'st show.For which, my Charles, it is my pride to beNot so much known, as to be lov'd of thee.Long may I live so, and my wreath of baysBe less another's laurel than thy praise.
For brave comportment, wit without offence,Words fully flowing, yet of influence:Thou art that man of men, the man alone,Worthy the public admiration:Who with thine own eyes read'st what we do write,And giv'st our numbers euphony and weight;Tell'st when a verse springs high, how understoodTo be, or not, born of the royal blood.What state above, what symmetry below,Lines have, or should have, thou the best can'st show.For which, my Charles, it is my pride to beNot so much known, as to be lov'd of thee.Long may I live so, and my wreath of baysBe less another's laurel than thy praise.
What need we marry women, whenWithout their use we may have men,And such as will in short time beFor murder fit, or mutiny?As Cadmus once a new way found,By throwing teeth into the ground;From which poor seed, and rudely sown,Sprung up a war-like nation:So let us iron, silver, gold,Brass, lead, or tin throw into th' mould;And we shall see in little spaceRise up of men a fighting race.If this can be, say then, what needHave we of women or their seed?
What need we marry women, whenWithout their use we may have men,And such as will in short time beFor murder fit, or mutiny?As Cadmus once a new way found,By throwing teeth into the ground;From which poor seed, and rudely sown,Sprung up a war-like nation:So let us iron, silver, gold,Brass, lead, or tin throw into th' mould;And we shall see in little spaceRise up of men a fighting race.If this can be, say then, what needHave we of women or their seed?
What need we marry women, whenWithout their use we may have men,And such as will in short time beFor murder fit, or mutiny?As Cadmus once a new way found,By throwing teeth into the ground;From which poor seed, and rudely sown,Sprung up a war-like nation:So let us iron, silver, gold,Brass, lead, or tin throw into th' mould;And we shall see in little spaceRise up of men a fighting race.If this can be, say then, what needHave we of women or their seed?
Love is a syrup; and whoe'er we seeSick and surcharg'd with this satiety,Shall by this pleasing trespass quickly proveThere's loathsomeness e'en in the sweets of love.
Love is a syrup; and whoe'er we seeSick and surcharg'd with this satiety,Shall by this pleasing trespass quickly proveThere's loathsomeness e'en in the sweets of love.
Love is a syrup; and whoe'er we seeSick and surcharg'd with this satiety,Shall by this pleasing trespass quickly proveThere's loathsomeness e'en in the sweets of love.
Love is a leaven; and a loving kissThe leaven of a loving sweetheart is.
Love is a leaven; and a loving kissThe leaven of a loving sweetheart is.
Love is a leaven; and a loving kissThe leaven of a loving sweetheart is.
Physicians say repletion springsMore from the sweet than sour things.
Physicians say repletion springsMore from the sweet than sour things.
Physicians say repletion springsMore from the sweet than sour things.
Weep for the dead, for they have lost this light:And weep for me, lost in an endless night.Or mourn, or make a marble verse for me,Who writ for many. Benedicite.
Weep for the dead, for they have lost this light:And weep for me, lost in an endless night.Or mourn, or make a marble verse for me,Who writ for many. Benedicite.
Weep for the dead, for they have lost this light:And weep for me, lost in an endless night.Or mourn, or make a marble verse for me,Who writ for many. Benedicite.
No man such rare parts hath that he can swim,If favour or occasion help not him.
No man such rare parts hath that he can swim,If favour or occasion help not him.
No man such rare parts hath that he can swim,If favour or occasion help not him.
Lost to the world; lost to myself; aloneHere now I rest under this marble stone:In depth of silence, heard and seen of none.
Lost to the world; lost to myself; aloneHere now I rest under this marble stone:In depth of silence, heard and seen of none.
Lost to the world; lost to myself; aloneHere now I rest under this marble stone:In depth of silence, heard and seen of none.
I will be short, and having quickly hurl'dThis line about, live thou throughout the world;Who art a man for all scenes; unto whom,What's hard to others, nothing's troublesome.Can'st write the comic, tragic strain, and fallFrom these to pen the pleasing pastoral:Who fli'st at all heights: prose and verse run'st through;Find'st here a fault, and mend'st the trespass too:For which I might extol thee, but speak less,Because thyself art coming to the press:And then should I in praising thee be slow,Posterity will pay thee what I owe.
I will be short, and having quickly hurl'dThis line about, live thou throughout the world;Who art a man for all scenes; unto whom,What's hard to others, nothing's troublesome.Can'st write the comic, tragic strain, and fallFrom these to pen the pleasing pastoral:Who fli'st at all heights: prose and verse run'st through;Find'st here a fault, and mend'st the trespass too:For which I might extol thee, but speak less,Because thyself art coming to the press:And then should I in praising thee be slow,Posterity will pay thee what I owe.
I will be short, and having quickly hurl'dThis line about, live thou throughout the world;Who art a man for all scenes; unto whom,What's hard to others, nothing's troublesome.Can'st write the comic, tragic strain, and fallFrom these to pen the pleasing pastoral:Who fli'st at all heights: prose and verse run'st through;Find'st here a fault, and mend'st the trespass too:For which I might extol thee, but speak less,Because thyself art coming to the press:And then should I in praising thee be slow,Posterity will pay thee what I owe.
Tell me, young man, or did the Muses bringThee less to taste than to drink up their spring,That none hereafter should be thought, or beA poet, or a poet-like but thee?What was thy birth, thy star that makes thee known,At twice ten years, a prime and public one?Tell us thy nation, kindred, or the whenceThou had'st and hast thy mighty influence,That makes thee lov'd, and of the men desir'd,And no less prais'd than of the maids admired.Put on thy laurel then; and in that trimBe thou Apollo or the type of him:Or let the unshorn god lend thee his lyre,And next to him be master of the choir.
Tell me, young man, or did the Muses bringThee less to taste than to drink up their spring,That none hereafter should be thought, or beA poet, or a poet-like but thee?What was thy birth, thy star that makes thee known,At twice ten years, a prime and public one?Tell us thy nation, kindred, or the whenceThou had'st and hast thy mighty influence,That makes thee lov'd, and of the men desir'd,And no less prais'd than of the maids admired.Put on thy laurel then; and in that trimBe thou Apollo or the type of him:Or let the unshorn god lend thee his lyre,And next to him be master of the choir.
Tell me, young man, or did the Muses bringThee less to taste than to drink up their spring,That none hereafter should be thought, or beA poet, or a poet-like but thee?What was thy birth, thy star that makes thee known,At twice ten years, a prime and public one?Tell us thy nation, kindred, or the whenceThou had'st and hast thy mighty influence,That makes thee lov'd, and of the men desir'd,And no less prais'd than of the maids admired.Put on thy laurel then; and in that trimBe thou Apollo or the type of him:Or let the unshorn god lend thee his lyre,And next to him be master of the choir.
Offer thy gift; but first the law commandsThee, Julia, first, to sanctify thy hands:Do that, my Julia, which the rites require,Then boldly give thine incense to the fire.
Offer thy gift; but first the law commandsThee, Julia, first, to sanctify thy hands:Do that, my Julia, which the rites require,Then boldly give thine incense to the fire.
Offer thy gift; but first the law commandsThee, Julia, first, to sanctify thy hands:Do that, my Julia, which the rites require,Then boldly give thine incense to the fire.
Handsome you are, and proper you will beDespite of all your infortunity:Live long and lovely, but yet grow no lessIn that your own prefixed comeliness:Spend on that stock: and when your life must fall,Leave others beauty to set up withal.
Handsome you are, and proper you will beDespite of all your infortunity:Live long and lovely, but yet grow no lessIn that your own prefixed comeliness:Spend on that stock: and when your life must fall,Leave others beauty to set up withal.
Handsome you are, and proper you will beDespite of all your infortunity:Live long and lovely, but yet grow no lessIn that your own prefixed comeliness:Spend on that stock: and when your life must fall,Leave others beauty to set up withal.
Proper, well-made.
If hap it must, that I must see thee lieAbsyrtus-like, all torn confusedly:With solemn tears, and with much grief of heart,I'll recollect thee, weeping, part by part;And having wash'd thee, close thee in a chestWith spice; that done, I'll leave thee to thy rest.
If hap it must, that I must see thee lieAbsyrtus-like, all torn confusedly:With solemn tears, and with much grief of heart,I'll recollect thee, weeping, part by part;And having wash'd thee, close thee in a chestWith spice; that done, I'll leave thee to thy rest.
If hap it must, that I must see thee lieAbsyrtus-like, all torn confusedly:With solemn tears, and with much grief of heart,I'll recollect thee, weeping, part by part;And having wash'd thee, close thee in a chestWith spice; that done, I'll leave thee to thy rest.
Absyrtus-like, the brother of Medea, cut in pieces by her that his father might be delayed by gathering his limbs.
Welcome, great Cæsar, welcome now you areAs dearest peace after destructive war:Welcome as slumbers, or as beds of easeAfter our long and peevish sicknesses.O pomp of glory! Welcome now, and comeTo repossess once more your long'd-for home.A thousand altars smoke: a thousand thighsOf beeves here ready stand for sacrifice.Enter and prosper; while our eyes do waitFor an ascendent throughly auspicate:Under which sign we may the former stoneLay of our safety's new foundation:That done, O Cæsar! live and be to usOur fate, our fortune, and our genius;To whose free knees we may our temples tieAs to a still protecting deity:That should you stir, we and our altars tooMay, great Augustus, go along with you.Chor.Long live the King! and to accomplish this,We'll from our own add far more years to his.
Welcome, great Cæsar, welcome now you areAs dearest peace after destructive war:Welcome as slumbers, or as beds of easeAfter our long and peevish sicknesses.O pomp of glory! Welcome now, and comeTo repossess once more your long'd-for home.A thousand altars smoke: a thousand thighsOf beeves here ready stand for sacrifice.Enter and prosper; while our eyes do waitFor an ascendent throughly auspicate:Under which sign we may the former stoneLay of our safety's new foundation:That done, O Cæsar! live and be to usOur fate, our fortune, and our genius;To whose free knees we may our temples tieAs to a still protecting deity:That should you stir, we and our altars tooMay, great Augustus, go along with you.Chor.Long live the King! and to accomplish this,We'll from our own add far more years to his.
Welcome, great Cæsar, welcome now you areAs dearest peace after destructive war:Welcome as slumbers, or as beds of easeAfter our long and peevish sicknesses.O pomp of glory! Welcome now, and comeTo repossess once more your long'd-for home.A thousand altars smoke: a thousand thighsOf beeves here ready stand for sacrifice.Enter and prosper; while our eyes do waitFor an ascendent throughly auspicate:Under which sign we may the former stoneLay of our safety's new foundation:That done, O Cæsar! live and be to usOur fate, our fortune, and our genius;To whose free knees we may our temples tieAs to a still protecting deity:That should you stir, we and our altars tooMay, great Augustus, go along with you.Chor.Long live the King! and to accomplish this,We'll from our own add far more years to his.
Ascendent, the most influential position of a planet in astrology.Auspicate, propitious.
And as time past when Cato the severeEnter'd the circumspacious theatre,In reverence of his person everyoneStood as he had been turn'd from flesh to stone;E'en so my numbers will astonished beIf but looked on; struck dead, if scann'd by thee.
And as time past when Cato the severeEnter'd the circumspacious theatre,In reverence of his person everyoneStood as he had been turn'd from flesh to stone;E'en so my numbers will astonished beIf but looked on; struck dead, if scann'd by thee.
And as time past when Cato the severeEnter'd the circumspacious theatre,In reverence of his person everyoneStood as he had been turn'd from flesh to stone;E'en so my numbers will astonished beIf but looked on; struck dead, if scann'd by thee.
Tell that brave man, fain thou would'st have accessTo kiss his hands, but that for fearfulness;Or else because th'art like a modest bride,Ready to blush to death, should he but chide.
Tell that brave man, fain thou would'st have accessTo kiss his hands, but that for fearfulness;Or else because th'art like a modest bride,Ready to blush to death, should he but chide.
Tell that brave man, fain thou would'st have accessTo kiss his hands, but that for fearfulness;Or else because th'art like a modest bride,Ready to blush to death, should he but chide.