What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
adore amorous arms Aurelian Townsend beams Beauty Beauty's behold Ben Jonson blest bosom breast breath bright brow burn can'st Celia charms chaste cheek Cleon Countess of Carlisle Court dance dare dart death disdain divine doth dwell earth edition face fair fate fear fire flame friends George Sandys give gods grace grief hand happy hast hath heart heaven Henry Lawes honour John Jonson Jove King kiss Lady leave light lines lips live Lord love thee Love's Lovers Masque melt Mistress Muse night numbers Nymph Philip Bliss Poems Poets praise printed pure Queen Rose Saxham scorn shade Shepherd's Paradise shine sighs Sir John Crofts Sir John Suckling smile snow soft song soul stanza Stars Suckling Sunninghill sweet tears Thomas Carew Thomas Killigrew thou art thou shalt thoughts unto verse Virtue whilst wind wings Wit's Interpreter youth
Page 69 - Ask me no more whither doth haste The nightingale when May is past, For in your sweet dividing throat She winters and keeps warm her note. Ask me no more where Jove bestows, When June is past, the fading rose, For in your beauty's orient deep These flowers as in their causes, sleep.
Page 15 - Twas I that gave thee thy renown ; Thou hadst in the forgotten crowd Of common beauties lived unknown, Had not my verse exhaled thy name, And with it imped the wings of fame. That killing power is none of thine, I gave it to thy voice and eyes; Thy sweets, thy graces, all are mine; Thou art my star, shin'st in my skies; '" Then dart not from thy borrowed sphere Lightning on him that fixed thee there.
Page 51 - The Lady Mary Villiers lies Under this stone : With weeping eyes The parents that first gave her birth, And their sad friends, laid her in earth : If any of them (reader) were Known unto thee, shed a tear : Or if thyself possess a gem, As dear to thee, as this to them. ; Though a stranger to this place, Bewail in theirs, thine own hard case ; For thou perhaps at thy return Mayst find thy darling in an urn.
Page 89 - Come, my Celia, let us prove, While we can, the sports of love, Time will not be ours for ever, He, at length, our good will sever; Spend not then his gifts in vain; Suns, that set, may rise again: But if once we loose this light, Tis with us perpetual night.
Page 244 - And Therefore the wits of the town came thither; 'Twas strange to see how they flocked together, Each strongly confident of his own way, Thought to gain the laurel away that day.
Page 73 - Ask me why I send to you This primrose all bepearled with dew : I straight will whisper in your ears, The sweets of love are washed with tears. Ask me why this flower doth show So yellow, green, and sickly too ; Ask me why the stalk is weak And bending, yet it doth not break ; I must tell you, these discover What doubts and fears are in a lover.
Page 16 - HE that loves a rosy cheek, Or a coral lip admires, Or, from star-like eyes, doth seek Fuel to maintain his fires ; As old Time makes these decay, So his flames must waste away. But a smooth and steadfast mind, Gentle thoughts and calm desires, Hearts with equal love combined, Kindle never-dying fires. Where these are not, I despise Lovely cheeks, or lips, or eyes.
Page 112 - Thy giant fancy, which had proved too stout For their soft melting phrases. As in time They had the start, so did they cull the prime Buds of invention many a hundred...
Page xxiv - He is a great lover and praiser of himself, a contemner and scorner of others, given rather to lose a friend than a jest, jealous of every word and action of those about him, (especially after drink, which is one of the elements in which he liveth...