XII: Epistle To Elizabeth Countesse Of Rutland (Ben Jonson Poems)
Madame,VVhil'st that, for which all vertue now is sold, And almost every vice, almightie gold,That which, to boote with hell, ...
Madame,VVhil'st that, for which all vertue now is sold, And almost every vice, almightie gold,That which, to boote with hell, ...
Lucy, you brightness of our sphere, who are Life of the Muses' day, their morning star! If works, ...
Farewell, thou child of my right hand, and joy; My sin was too much hope of thee, lov'd boy. ...
I have no children: But tonight a poem came in which a small child, my daughter, appeared at the door ...
Lucy, you brightness of our sphere, who are Life of the Muses' day, their morning star! If works, not th' ...
Farewell, thou child of my right hand, and joy; My sin was too much hope of thee, loved boy. Seven ...
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