An Answere To A Papystycall Exhortacyon (John Bale Poems)
Everye pylde pedlarWyll be a medlarThough ther myttes be drowsyeAnd ther lernynge lowsyeTher meters all mangyeRashe, rurall, and grangyeYet wyll ...
Everye pylde pedlarWyll be a medlarThough ther myttes be drowsyeAnd ther lernynge lowsyeTher meters all mangyeRashe, rurall, and grangyeYet wyll ...
Therefore, when thirtie two were come and gone,Years of her raigne, daies of her countries peace,Elizabeth great Empresse of the ...
Impatience chaungeth smoke to flame, but jealousie is hell;Some wives by patience have reduc'd ill husbands to live well:As did ...
A sincere man am IFrom the land where palm trees grow,And I want before I dieMy soul's verses to bestow.I'm ...
In pleasaunt moneth of gladsome May I walkt abroad to viewThe fieldes, which nature had bedeckt With flowers of sundry hew.The sight ...
This worldes madde maskerye I intende to disgrace Pluckeinge of the viser and the disguiseinge gere From this merye maskers soe as ...
The bookes of Ouids changed shapes, A story strange doe tell,How Orpheus to fetch his wife, Made voyage vnto hell.Who hauing past ...
Reueale (O tongue) the secretes of my thought,Tel forth the game that perfect friendship brings:Expresse what ioyes by her to ...
Of a smale cause grewe noe smale stryfe Twene John and Jone then manne and wyfe. John called Jone nyse because that ...
Bewties delite geve place to this fayer starrloocke still one her, hur eyes will geve yow lightAmmiabel she is hur ...
A father begat me, yet I haue no mother.Nor Uncle nor aunt, nor sister, nor brother.Straight when I was born, ...
No Thrasion harpe, but a steeld furious whippe, no Nightingales, but Mandrakes shreeking sound,Adastors snakes to make these Thrasors skippe: ...
Hearken to me, gentlemen,Come and you shall heare;He tell you of two of the boldest brethren,That ever born y-were.The tone ...
The Senses dull of my appalled museForeweryed with the trauayle of my brayneIn scannyng of the argued Bookes difuse,And darke ...
In Grecian soyle two brothers born there is, they father haue Agenetos, whose blis, In happie time the children ...
Weep not because this childe hath dyed so yong, But weepe because yourselves have livde so long: Age is not ...
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