A Fly About A Glasse Of Burnt Claret. (Richard Lovelace Poems)
I.Forbear this liquid fire, Fly,It is more fatal then the dry,That singly, but embracing, wounds;And this at once both burns ...
I.Forbear this liquid fire, Fly,It is more fatal then the dry,That singly, but embracing, wounds;And this at once both burns ...
Were it that you so shun me, 'cause you wish(Cruels't) a fellow in your wretchednesse,Or that you take some small ...
Small type of great ones, that do humWithin this whole world's narrow room,That with a busie hollow noiseCatch at the ...
TO AMARANTHA; THAT SHE WOULD DISHEVELL HER HAIRE.I.Amarantha sweet and faire,Ah brade no more that shining haire!As my curious hand ...
I.Heark, faire one, how what e're here isDoth laugh and sing at thy distresse;Not out of hate to thy reliefe,But ...
Dull as I was, to think that a court flyPresum'd so neer her eye;When 'twas th' industrious beeMistook her glorious ...
Amarantha, sweet and fair, Ah, braid no more that shining hair! As my curious hand or eye Hovering round thee, ...
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