E’en like two little bank-dividing brooks,
That wash the pebbles with their wanton streams,
And having ranged and searched a thousand nooks,
Meet both at length in silver-breasted Thames,
Where in a greater current they conjoin:
So I my Best-...
Francis Quarles
-
-
I Love, and have some cause to love, the earth,—
She is my Maker’s creature, therefore good;
She is my mother, for she gave me birth;
She is my tender nurse, she gives me food:
But what ’s a creature, Lord, compared with thee?
Or what ’s my mother... -
False world, thou ly’st: thou canst not lend
The least delight:
Thy favors cannot gain a friend,
They are so slight:
Thy morning pleasures make an end
To please at night:
Poor are the wants that thou supply’st,... -
E'en like two little bank-dividing brooks,
That wash the pebbles with their wanton streams,
And having ranged and search'd a thousand nooks,
Meet both at length in silver-breasted Thames,
Where in a greater current they conjoin:
So I my Best-beloved...