By atoms moved;
Could you believe that this
The body was
Of one that loved?
And in his mistress’ flame, playing like a fly,
Turned to cinders by her eye?
Yes; and in death, as life, unblessed,
To have’t expressed,
Even ashes of lovers find no rest.
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I have no children:
in which a small child,my daughter, appeared at the doorof a half-lit roomwhere late one night I wroteat a heavy desk.And though interruptionwas hardly welcomeI took her to myself,just as the poem,comforted this daughteruntil she found peace.The poems as the childrencome as they will come.
Come, leave the loathed stage,
Where pride and impudence, in faction knit,Usurp the chair of wit!Indicting and arraigning every daySomething they call a play.Let their fastidious, vainCommission of the brainRun on and rage, sweat, censure, and condemn;They were not made for thee, less thou for them.Say that thou pour’st them wheat,And they will acorns eat;‘Twere simple fury still thyself to…
Wouldst thou hear what man can say
Underneath this stone doth lieAs much beauty as could die;Which in life did harbor giveTo more virtue than doth live.If at all she had a fault,Leave it buried in this vault.One name was Elizabeth,Th’ other let it sleep with death;Fitter, where it died to tell,Than that it lived at all. Farewell.
I sing the birth was born to-night
The angels so did sound it.And like the ravished shepherds said,Who saw the light, and were afraid,Yet searched, and true they found it.The Son of God, th’ eternal king,That did us all salvation bring,And freed the soul from danger;He whom the whole world could not take,The Word, which heaven and earth did make,Was now laid…
Here lies, to each her parents’ ruth,
Yet all heaven’s gifts being heaven’s due,It makes the father less to rue.At six months’ end she parted henceWith safety of her innocence;Whose soul heaven’s queen, whose name she bears,In comfort of her mother’s tears,Hath placed amongst her virgin-train:Where, while that severed doth remain,This grave partakes the fleshly birth;Which cover lightly, gentle earth!
ROOM! room! make room for the bouncing Belly,
Prime master of arts and the giver of wit,That found out the excellent engine, the spit,The plough and the flail, the mill and the hopper,The hutch and the boulter, the furnace and copper,The oven, the bavin, the mawkin, the peel,The hearth and the range, the dog and the wheel.He, he first invented the hogshead and…