A Necklace (William Strode Poems)
These veines are nature's nett, These cords by art are sett. If love himselfe flye here, Love is intangled here. ...
These veines are nature's nett, These cords by art are sett. If love himselfe flye here, Love is intangled here. ...
O tell mee, tell, thou god of wynde, In all thy cavernes canst thou finde A vapor, fume, a gale ...
Now the declining sun 'gan downwards bend From higher heavens, and from his locks did send A milder flame, when ...
What are thy gaines, O death, if one man ly Stretch'd in a bed of clay, whose charity Doth hereby ...
Hide not that sprouting lipp, nor kill The juicy bloome with bashfull skill: Know it is an amorous dewe That ...
Thou pretty heav'n whose great and lesser spheares With constant wheelings measure hours and yeares Soe faithfully that thou couldst ...
A Vulcan and a Venus seldom part. A blacksmith never us'd to filinge art Beyond a lock and key, for ...
I know no paynt of poetry Can mend such colourd Imag'ry In sullen inke: yet Fayrford, I May relish thy ...
The first day of this month the last hath bin To that deare soule. March never did come in So ...
Is Death so cunning now that all her blowe Aymes at the heade? Doth now her wary Bowe Make surer ...
Renowned Champion full of wrestling Art, And made for victory in every part, Whose active Limbes, oyl'd Tongue, and vertuous ...
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