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.
The glorious lamp of Heaven, the sun,
The higher he ’s a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he ’s to setting.
The age is best which is the first,
When youth and blood...
Sweet, be not proud of those two eyes,
Which starlike sparkle in their skies;
Nor be you proud that you can see
All hearts your captives, yours yet free.
Be you not proud of that rich hair,
Which wantons with the lovesick air;
Whenas that ruby which you wear,
Sunk from the tip of your soft ear,
Will last to be a precious stone...
Whenas in silks my Julia goes,
Then, then, methinks, how sweetly flowes
That liquefaction of her clothes.
Next, when I cast mine eyes and see
That brave vibration each way free,
O how that glittering taketh me!
1. AMONG thy fancies tell me this:
What is the thing we call a kiss?
2. I shall resolve ye what it is:
It is a creature born and bred
Between the lips all cherry red,
By love and warm desires fed;
Chor. And makes more soft the bridal bed.
It is an active flame, that flies
First to the babies of the eyes,...
To Julia
HER eyes the glow-worme lend thee,
The shooting-starres attend thee,
And the elves also,
Whose little eyes glow
Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee.
No Will-o’-th’-wispe mislight thee,
Nor snake nor slow-worm bite thee;
But on thy way,
Not making stay,
Since ghost there ’s none...
In the hour of my distress,
When temptations me oppress,
And when I my sins confess,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When I lie within my bed,
Sick at heart, and sick in head,
And with doubts discomforted,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When the house doth sigh and weep,
And the world is drowned in sleep,
Yet mine...
A Thanksgiving to God for a House in the Green Parish of Devonshire
LORD, thou hast given me a cell
Wherein to dwell,
A little house, whose humble roof
Is weather proof;
Under the sparres of which I lie,
Both soft and drie;
Where thou, my chamber for to ward,
Hast set a guard
Of...
Is this a fast,—to keep
The larder lean,
And clean
From fat of veals and sheep?
Is it to quit the dish
Of flesh, yet still
To fill
The platter high with fish?
Is it to fast an hour,
Or ragg’d to go,
Or show
A downcast look, and sour?
No! ’t is a fast to dole...
FAIRE daffadills, we weep to see
You haste away so soone;
As yet the early-rising sun
Has not attained his noone.
Stay, stay,
Until the hastening day
Has run
But to the even-song;
And having prayed together, we
Will goe with you along.
We have short time to stay as you,
We...
Welcome, maids of honor!
You doe bring
In the Spring,
And wait upon her.
She has virgins many,
Fresh and faire;
Yet you are
More sweet than any.
Y’ are the maiden Posies,
And, so grac’t,
To be plac’t
’Fore damask roses.
Yet though thus respected,
By and by...
