Next, how I love thee, that my grief must tell,
Wherein thou liv’st for ever.–Dear, farewell!
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IN the hour of my distress,
And when I my sins confess,Sweet Spirit, comfort me!When I lie within my bed,Sick in heart and sick in head,And with doubts discomforted,Sweet Spirit, comfort me!When the house doth sigh and weep,And the world is drown’d in sleep,Yet mine eyes the watch do keep,Sweet Spirit, comfort me!When the passing bell doth toll,And the Furies in…
Have ye beheld (with much delight)
Or else a cherry (double graced)Within a lily? Centre placed?Or ever marked the pretty beamA strawberry shows half drowned in cream?Or seen rich rubies blushing throughA pure smooth pearl, and orient too?So like to this, nay all the rest,Is each neat niplet of her breast.
Ponder my words, if so that any be
Let what is graceless, discomposed, and rude,With sweetness, smoothness, softness be endued:Teach it to blush, to curtsey, lisp, and showDemure, but yet full of temptation, too.Numbers ne’er tickle, or but lightly plea{e,Unless they have some wanton carriages:–This if ye do, each piece will here be goodAnd graceful made by your neat sisterhood.
No wrath of men, or rage of seas,
No threats of tyrants, or the grimVisage of them can alter him;But what he doth at first intend,That he holds firmly to the end.
This day, my Julia, thou must make
Knead but the dough, and it will beTo paste of almonds turn’d by thee;Or kiss it thou but once or twice,And for the bride-cake there’ll be spice.