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...
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;...
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...
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,...
