A Gallery To The Temple. The Apparition (Ralph Knevet Poems)
A true French story Three jocund Gallants in their golden age, Court Cock'rells, in their pucellage of witt; For yet Discretion had not ...
A true French story Three jocund Gallants in their golden age, Court Cock'rells, in their pucellage of witt; For yet Discretion had not ...
VVEll dy'de the World, that we might liue to seeThis World of wit, in his Anatomee:No euill wants his good: ...
When Phoebus is ascendent in the morne, With the old Archer, or cold Capricorne, The world remaines forlorne: The Birds, are then as ...
Man in the wombe, is but a Zoophyte, There nourish'd like a plant: But when Hee is produc'd to the day-light, Disclos'd from ...
Oh what fraile things Are Kings? They seeme immortall Gods, Yet have their periods: And must take harbour in that cell, Where wormes unhospitall doe ...
_To the Author upon the sight of the first sheet of his Book._ My worthy friend, I am much pleas'd to ...
While on my self I doe reflect, I spy a brittle House of clay, With many imperfections deck't, Which while I labour to ...
Needes Shee another Monument of stone, Who had so many better than this one: All which were Noble Hearts, whom her decease, Transmuted ...
CAN I, who haue for others oft compil'dThe Songs of Death, forget my sweetest child.Which like a flow'r crusht, with ...
The fraile Carine of my distemperd soule, Did on the billowes rowle, Of this tempesto'us World: The rageing gusts Of Passions, and lusts, Did ...
Unprofitably pleasing, and unsound.When Heaven gave liberty to fraile dull earth,To bringe foorth plenty that in ills abound,Which ripest, yet ...
New formed Adam of the reddish earth, Exilde from Eden, Paradice of pleasure By Gods decree cast down to woes ...
Love, lift me up upon thy golden wingsFrom this base world unto thy heavens hight,Where I may see those admirable ...
Hee that his mirth hath loste, Whose comfort is dismaid,Whose hope is vaine, whose faith is scorned, Whose trust is ...
O Great Creator of the starrie Pole, and heauenly things O mightie founder of the earthly mole, chiefe king of ...
Flie vale-bred Muse to heauen-high Mont-ague Honoring thy playnesse with so quaint aspire It is a baggard Hawke ...
I. HEre take no Care, take here no Care, my Muse, Nor ought of Art or Labour use: But let ...
THe souerayne beauty which I doo admyre, witnesse the world how worthy to be prayzed: the light wherof hath kindled ...
OFt when my spirit doth spred her bolder winges, In mind to mount vp to the purest sky: it down ...
MOre then most faire, full of the liuing fire, Kindled aboue vnto the maker neere: no eies buy ioyes, in ...
If I could ever write a lasting verse, It should be laid, deare Sainte, upon thy herse. But Sorrow is ...
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