From “a Woman Killed with Kindness” O GOD! O God! that it were possible To undo things done; to call back yesterday! That time could turn up his swift sandy glass, To untell the days, and to redeem these hours! Or that the sun Could, rising from the West, draw his coach backward,— Take from the account of time so many minutes, Till he had all these seasons called again, These minutes and these actions done in them.
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Give place, ye ladies, and begone, Boast not yourselves at all: For here at hand approacheth one Whose face will stain you all. The virtue of her lively looks Excels the precious stone: I wish to have none other books To read or look upon. In each of her two crystal eyes Smileth a naked boy: It... |
Mellifluous Shakespeare, whose enchanting quill Commanded mirth or passion, was but Will; And famous Jonson, though his learnèd pen He dipped in Castaly, is still but Ben. Fletcher and Webster, of that learnèd pack None of the meanest, was but Jack; Dekker but Tom, nor May, nor Middleton, And he... |
Pack clouds away, and welcome day, With night we banish sorrow; Sweet air, blow soft; mount, lark, 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... |
From “a Woman Killed with Kindness” O GOD! O God! that it were possible To undo things done; to call back yesterday! That time could turn up his swift sandy glass, To untell the days, and to redeem these hours! Or that the sun Could, rising from the West, draw his coach backward,—... |
