XIII: Epistle: To Katherine, Lady Aubigny (Ben Jonson Poems)
'Tis growne almost a danger to speake true Of any good minde, now: There are so few.The bad, by number, ...
'Tis growne almost a danger to speake true Of any good minde, now: There are so few.The bad, by number, ...
Not to know vice at all, and keepe true state, Is vertue, and not Fate:Next, to that vertue, is to ...
How blest art thou, canst love the countrey, Wroth, Whether by choyce, or fate, or both!And, though so neere the ...
Not to know vice at all, and keep true state, Is virtue and not fate:Next to that virtue, is to ...
Come, leave the loathed stage, And the more loathsome age; Where pride and impudence, in faction knit, ...
The long laments I spent for ruin'd Troy,Are dried; and now mine eyes run teares of joy.No more shall men ...
Ere cherries ripe, and strawberries be gone; Unto the cries of London I'll add one; Ripe statesmen, ripe: ...
Farewell, thou child of my right hand, and joy; My sin was too much hope of thee, lov'd boy. ...
Walking, snow falling, it is possibleto focus at various distancesin turn on separate flakes, sharply engagethe attention at several spatial ...
I have no children: But tonight a poem came in which a small child, my daughter, appeared at the door ...
Come, leave the loathed stage, And the more loathsome age; Where pride and impudence, in faction knit, Usurp the chair ...
Farewell, thou child of my right hand, and joy; My sin was too much hope of thee, loved boy. Seven ...
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