Thomas Carew

  • Sweetly breathing, vernal air,
    That with kind warmth doth repair
    Winter’s ruins; from whose breast
    All the gums and spice of the East
    Borrow their perfumes; whose eye
    Gilds the morn, and clears the sky.
    Whose dishevelled tresses shed
    Pearls...

  • Give me more love or more disdain;
      The torrid or the frozen zone
    Brings equal ease unto my pain;
      The temperate affords me none;
    Either extreme, of love or hate,
    Is sweeter than a calm estate.

    Give me a storm; If it be love,
      Like...

  • 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.

    Ask me no more whither do stray
    The golden atoms of the day;
    For in pure love heaven did prepare...

  • He that loves a rosy cheek,
      Or a coral lip admires,
    Or from starlike 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...