The Mourning Muse Of Thestylis (Lodowick Bryskett Poems)
Come forth, ye Nymphes, come forth, forsake your watry bowres,Forsake your mossy caves, and help me to lament:Help me to ...
Come forth, ye Nymphes, come forth, forsake your watry bowres,Forsake your mossy caves, and help me to lament:Help me to ...
I.This Queen of Prey (now prey to you),Fast to that pirch of ivoryIn silver chaines and silken clue,Hath now made ...
Sorrow, I yeeld, and grieve that I did misse;Will not thy rage be satified with this?As sad a Divell as ...
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