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Amarillis beauty behold Ben Jonson bower breathe charm cheeks Cherry ripe crown Cuckoo Daffodils delight dost doth drest Edmund Waller eyes fair female frenzy flowers folly George Wither glory grace green Hark haste hath my heart hear Heart and soul heaven heigh hither honour John Lyly Jonson lark light live look on thee Love good-morrow Love is dead lover Lucasta lullaby Lyric maid merry mind mirth morn Motto ne'er nonny pale Perkin Phoebus pleasure poets praise pretty birds Prythee Richard Lovelace Robert Herrick rose Samuel Daniel shepherds shines sigh singing note Sir John Suckling sleep snow song sorrow soul do sing Spring stay sweet sweetly Sylvia thine Thomas Campion Thomas Carew Thomas Heywood Thomas Lodge thought tree true-love hath ungrateful fancy unto voice weep William Shakespeare wind wings winter worth Ye pretty wantons youth
Page 116 - Go, lovely Rose! Tell her, that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprung In deserts, where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died.
Page 50 - When daffodils begin to peer, With heigh ! the doxy over the dale, Why, then comes in the sweet o' the year; For the red blood reigns in the winter's pale. The white sheet bleaching on the hedge, With heigh ! the sweet birds, O, how they sing! Doth set my pugging tooth on edge ; For a quart of ale is a dish for a king. The lark, that...
Page 56 - 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...
Page 98 - Gather ye rosebuds while ye may. Old time is still a,flying: And this same flower that smiles to,day To,morrow will be dying.
Page 33 - A gown made of the finest wool Which from our pretty lambs we pull; Fair lined slippers for the cold, With buckles of the purest gold; A belt of straw and ivy buds With coral clasps and amber studs: And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me and be my love.
Page 60 - Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup And I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine.
Page 68 - Sweet air blow soft, mount larks aloft To give my Love good-morrow ! Wings from the wind to please her mind Notes from the lark I'll borrow ; Bird prune thy wing, nightingale sing, To give my Love good-morrow ; To give my Love good-morrow Notes from them both I'll borrow.
Page 16 - Love in my bosom like a bee Doth suck his sweet; Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender breast, My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest — Ah, wanton, will ye?