Rhodon And Iris. Act I (Ralph Knevet Poems)
SCEN. 1.Poneria, Agnostus.Ag. Is the worlds eye not yet asleepe?Po. Hath Jove not yet put on his starry night-cap? No; nor Juno her spangl'd ...
SCEN. 1.Poneria, Agnostus.Ag. Is the worlds eye not yet asleepe?Po. Hath Jove not yet put on his starry night-cap? No; nor Juno her spangl'd ...
SCEN. 1.Clematis Solo Well, if I were but once rid of her service, If I ever serv'd love-sicke mistris againe, I would feed all ...
SCEN. 1.Poneria, Agnostus.Po. Bold foolish wickednesse is that Which walks by day, expos'd to the world's eie. Sinne is the daughter of the darkest ...
SCEN. 1.Iris, Panace, Violetta.Ir. Curst was the wight that did in murther first Embrue his guilty hands: curst was that hand Which first was ...
(My God) who dids't thy glorious throne forsake, And from a Virgin pure thy manhood take, That Thou, thereby mights't us thy ...
Upon the Death of those two Honourable Gentlemen, Sir JOHN BURROWES, late Lieutenant of the English Infantrie in the Ile ...
When Hils, and Valleys, wrap't in sheets of snow, Did pennance for their summer luxury, And Winter old unto the world did ...
(Lord) Hee, who goes about to find Thy pow'r, and bounds would to it sett, As soone may manacle the winde, Or aire ...
Hee that seekes gold, or pearle, must delve, or dive, And descend toward Hell: Thus things, for which the world doth chiefely ...
This life is an Olympicke Game, a Race, Wherein the Victours shall bee crown'd, With liveing bayes; which Time cannot deface: But many ...
What shall I render to the Lord, For all his gifts and benefits? What recompence will Hee accord T'accept? what sacrifice befittes Such infinite ...
Teach me the art of teares, Thou Lord of joy, learne mee to swimme in sorow, Both at this present, and to ...
(Yong hopefull sprigge) that art borne to inherit Abundant wealth (if thou dost not preferre it Before the freedome) know that thy ...
Needes Shee another Monument of stone, Who had so many better than this one: All which were Noble Hearts, whom her decease, Transmuted ...
As doth the purple headed rose prickt in The tender bosome, of the Paphian Queene, All beauties of the Garden farre out ...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories