III: To Sir Robert Wroth (Ben Jonson Poems)
How blest art thou, canst love the countrey, Wroth, Whether by choyce, or fate, or both!And, though so neere the ...
How blest art thou, canst love the countrey, Wroth, Whether by choyce, or fate, or both!And, though so neere the ...
Let that time a thousand moneths endure,Which brings from heaven the sweet and silver showers,And joys the earth (of comfort ...
An ancient story Ile tell you anon Of a notable prince, that was called King John;And he ruled England with ...
Thou art not, Penshurst, built to envious show, Of touch, or marble; nor canst boast a rowOf polish'd pillars, or ...
When Arthur first in court began,And was approved king,By force of armes great victorys wonne,And conquest home did bring;Then into ...
I read that once in AffricaA princely wight did raine,Who had to name Cophetua, As poets they did faine.From natures ...
_Deere Chryste, let not the cheere of earth, To fill our hearts with heedless mirth This holy Christmasse time; ...
Let the mayors daughter of Lin, God wott,He chose her to his wife,And thought with her to have lived in ...
Part 8 PROLOGUE TO THE SHIPMANNES TALE Here endith the man of ...
Glasgerion was a kings owne sonne, And a harper he was goode;He harped in the kings chambere,Where cuppe and caudle ...
Lord Thomas he was a bold forrester,And a chaser of the kings deere;Faire Ellinor was a fine woman,And Lord Thomas ...
This winters weather itt waxeth cold,And frost doth freese on every hill,And Boreas blowes his blasts soe boldThat all our ...
Lie in my arms, Ailsie, my bairn,— Lie in my arms and dinna greit;Long time been past syn I kenned ...
Thou warlike nation whom Achaius tyed In league, and made our house of ...
Syn that you, Chloe, to your moder sticken,Maketh all ye yonge bacheloures full sicken;Like as a lyttel deere you ben ...
Syn that you, Chloe, to your moder sticken,Maketh all ye yonge bacheloures full sicken;Like as a lyttel deere you ben ...
Lie in my arms, Ailsie, my bairn,-- Lie in my arms and dinna greit; Long time been past syn I ...
Syn that you, Chloe, to your moder sticken, Maketh all ye yonge bacheloures full sicken; Like as a lyttel deere ...
Eclogue the First. Whanne Englonde, smeethynge from her lethal wounde, From her galled necke dyd twytte the chayne awaie, Kennynge ...
YE learned sisters, which have oftentimes Beene to me ayding, others to adorne, Whom ye thought worthy of your gracefull ...
WAke now my loue, awake; for it is time, The Rosy Morne long since left Tithones bed, All ready to ...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories