Four Poems on the Countess of Dorchester (Earl of Dorset Charles Sackville Poems)
I. Sylvia, methinks you are unfit Sylvia, methinks you are unfit For your great Lord's embrace; For tho' we all ...
I. Sylvia, methinks you are unfit Sylvia, methinks you are unfit For your great Lord's embrace; For tho' we all ...
Tell me, Dorinda, why so gay, Why such embroid'ry, fringe, and lace? Can any dresses find a way To stop ...
Dead men are wisest, for they know How far the roots of flowers go, How long a seed must rot ...
They sleep within. . . . I cower to the earth, I waking, I only. High and cold thou dreamest, ...
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