The Authours minde vpon the matter of this his litle Booke (Edward Hake Poems)
A publicque peace our highe Iehoue hath wrought:A priuate warre, with hate tweene man and manDoth Sathan breede. Good state, ...
A publicque peace our highe Iehoue hath wrought:A priuate warre, with hate tweene man and manDoth Sathan breede. Good state, ...
The double 12 sorwe of Troilus to tellen, That was the king Priamus sone of Troye, In lovinge, how his ...
NOw al is done; bring home the bride againe, bring home the triumph of our victory, Bring home with you ...
VNto his mother straight he weeping came, and of his griefe complayned: Who could not chose but laugh at his ...
FAire proud now tell me why should faire be proud; Sith all worlds glorie is but drosse vncleane: and in ...
LEt not one sparke of filthy lustfull fyre breake out, that may her sacred peace molest: ne one light glance ...
I Saw in secret to my Dame, How little Cupid humbly came: and sayd to her All hayle my mother. ...
I Ioy to see how in your drawen work, Your selfe vnto the Bee ye doe compare; and me vnto ...
DOe I not see that fayrest ymages Of hardest Marble are of purpose made? for that they should endure through ...
THis holy season fit to fast and pray, Men to deuotion ought to be inclynd: therefore, I lykewise on so ...
THe loue which me so cruelly tormenteth, So pleasing is in my extreamest paine: that all the more my sorrow ...
WHo is the same, which at my window peepes? Or whose is that faire face, that shines so bright, Is ...
MOre then most faire, full of the liuing fire, Kindled aboue vnto the maker neere: no eies buy ioyes, in ...
FAyre bosome fraught with vertues richest tresure, The neast of loue, the lodging of delight: the bowre of blisse, the ...
WAs it the worke of nature or of Art? which tempred so the feature of her face: that pride and ...
RVdely thou wrongest my deare harts desire, In finding fault with her too portly pride: the thing which I doo ...
Penelope for her Vlisses sake, Deuiz'd a Web her wooers to deceaue: in which the worke that she all day ...
LOng-while I sought to what I might compare those powrefull eies, which lighte my dark spright, yet find I nought ...
TEll me when shall these wearie woes haue end, Or shall their ruthlesse torment neuer cease: but al my dayes ...
A Pastorall Elegie vpon the death of the most Noble and valorous Knight, Sir Philip Sidney. Dedicated To the most ...
RIng ye the bels, ye yong men of the towne, And leaue your wonted labors for this day: This day ...
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