A Pindaric Ode (Ben Jonson Poems)
THE TURN Brave infant of Saguntum, clear Thy coming forth in that great year, ...
THE TURN Brave infant of Saguntum, clear Thy coming forth in that great year, ...
To the Immortal Memory and Friendship of that Noble Pair, Sir LuciusCary and Sir Henry Morison.I.THE TURN. Brave infant of ...
How blest art thou, canst love the countrey, Wroth, Whether by choyce, or fate, or both!And, though so neere the ...
The TurnBrave infant of Saguntum, clearThy coming forth in that great year,When the prodigious Hannibal did crownHis rage, with razing ...
Hear me, O God! A broken heart Is my best part. Use still thy rod, That ...
Weep with me, all you that read This little story; And know for whom a tear you shed, Death's self ...
For love's sake, kiss me once again;I long, and should not beg in vain,Here's none to spy or see;Why do ...
Epitaphs i WOULDST thou hear what Man can say In a little? Reader, stay. Underneath this stone doth lie As ...
The ports of death are sins; of life, good deeds:Through which our merit leads us to our meeds.How wilful blind ...
Wouldst thou hear what man can sayIn a little? Reader, stay.Underneath this stone doth lieAs much beauty as could die;Which ...
Underneath this sable hearseLies the subject of all verse,Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother:Death! ere thou hast slain another,Learned, and fair, and ...
Epitaphs i WOULDST thou hear what Man can say In a little? Reader, stay. Underneath this stone doth lie As ...
THE TURN Brave infant of Saguntum, clear Thy coming forth in that great year, When the prodigious Hannibal did crown ...
A Vienna ci sono dieci ragazze, una spalla dove piange la morte e un bosco di colombe disseccate. C'e' un ...
Hear me, O God! A broken heart Is my best part. Use still thy rod, That I may prove Therein ...
Wouldst thou hear what man can say In a little? Reader, stay. Underneath this stone doth lie As much beauty ...
For love's sake, kiss me once again; I long, and should not beg in vain, Here's none to spy or ...
Do but consider this small dust Here running in the glass, By atoms moved; Could you believe that this The ...
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