• Busy old fool, unruly Sun,
    Why dost thou thus,
    Through windows, and through curtains, call on us?
    Must to thy motions lovers' seasons run?
    Saucy pedantic wretch, go chide
    Late school-boys and sour prentices,
    Go tell court-huntsmen that the king will ride,
    Call country ants to harvest offices;
    Love, all alike, no season knows nor clime,
    Nor...

  • Where, like a pillow on a bed,
    A pregnant bank swell'd up, to rest
    The violet's reclining head,
    Sat we two, one another's best.

    Our hands were firmly cemented
    By a fast balm, which thence did spring;
    Our eye-beams twisted, and did thread
    Our eyes upon one double string.

    So to engraft our hands, as yet
    Was all the means to make us one...

  • Batter my heart, three person'd God; for, you
    As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
    That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
    Your force, to break, blow, burn and make me new.
    I, like an usurpt town, to another due,
    Labour to admit you, but Oh, to no end,
    Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
    But is captiv'd, and proves weak or...

  • As virtuous men pass mildly away,
    And whisper to their souls to go,
    Whilst some of their sad friends do say,
    "The breath goes now," and some say, "No,"

    So let us melt, and make no noise,
    No tear-floods, nor sigh-tempests move;
    'Twere profanation of our joys
    To tell the laity our love.

    Moving of the earth brings harms and fears,
    Men reckon...

  • Sweetest love, I do not go,
    For weariness of thee,
    Nor in hope the world can show
    A fitter love for me;
    But since that I
    Must die at last, 'tis best
    To use myself in jest
    Thus by feign'd deaths to die.

    Yesternight the sun went hence,
    And yet is here today;
    He hath no desire nor sense,
    Nor half so short a way:
    Then fear not me...

  • Come live with me, and be my love,
    And we will some new pleasures prove
    Of golden sands, and crystal brooks,
    With silken lines and silver hooks.

    There will the river whisp'ring run
    Warm'd by thy eyes, more than the sun ;
    And there th' enamour'd fish will stay,
    Begging themselves they may betray.

    When thou wilt swim in that live bath,
    ...