By our long starving hopes, by that remorseWhich my words’ masculine persuasive forceBegot in thee, and by the memoryOf hurts, which spies and rivals threatened me,I calmly beg: but by thy father’s wrath,By all pains, which want and divorcement hath,I conjure thee, and all the oaths which IAnd thou have sworn to seal joint constancy,Here…
(For who is sure he hath a soul, unlessIt see, and judge, and follow worthiness,And by deeds praise it? He who doth not this,May lodge an inmate soul, but ’tis not his)When that queen ended here her progress time,And, as t’her standing house, to heaven did climb,Where loath to make the saints attend her long,She’s…
Some men leap’d forth, and ever as they cameNear the foes’ ships, did by their shot decay;So all were lost, which in the ship were found,They in the sea being burnt, they in the burnt ship drown’d.
The intelligence that moves devotion is;And as the other spheares by being growneSubject to forraigne motion lose their owne,And being by others hurried every day,Scarce in a yeare their naturall forme obey :Pleasure or businesse, so our soules admitFor their first mover, and are whirled by it.Hence is’t that I am carryed toward the WestThis…
For armlets of that thou mayst let me wear;Nor that thy hand it oft embraced and kiss’d,For so it had that good, which oft I miss’d;Nor for that silly old morality,That, as these links were knit, our love should be,Mourn I that I thy sevenfold chain have lost;Nor for the luck sake; but the bitter…
All other Warrs are scrupulous; Only thou0 fayr free Citty, maist thyselfe allowTo any one: In Flanders, who can tellWhether the Master presse; or men rebell?Only we know, that which all Ideots say,They beare most blows which come to part the fray.France in her lunatique giddines did hateEver our men, yea and our God of…
But there are things indifferent,Which wee may neither hate, nor love,But one, and then another prove,As we shall find our fancy bent.If then at first wise Nature hadMade women either good or bad,Then some wee might hate, and some choose ;But since she did them so create,That we may neither love, nor hate,Only this rests,…
Poorly enrich’t with great men’s words or looks;Nor so write my name in thy loving booksAs those idolatrous flatterers, which stillTheir Prince’s styles, with many realms fulfilWhence they no tribute have, and where no sway.Such services I offer as shall payThemselves, I hate dead names: Oh then let meFavourite in Ordinary, or no favourite be.When…
Idly, yet quickly runne, hath this last pace,My spans last inch, my minutes latest point,And gluttonous death, will instantly unjoyntMy body, and soule, and I shall sleepe a space,But my’ever-waking part shall see that face,Whose feare already shakes my every joynt;Then, as my soule, to’heaven her first seate, takes flight,And earth-borne body, in the earth…
