For every season she hath dressings fit,
For Winter, Spring, and Summer.
No beauty she doth miss
When all her robes are on:
But Beauty’s self she is
When all her robes are gone.
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The sea hath many thousand sands,
The sky is full of stars, and LoveAs full of woes as any:Believe me, that do know the elf,And make no trial by thyself!It is in truth a pretty toyFor babes to play withal:But O, the honies of our youthAre oft our age’s gall:Self-proof in time will make thee knowHe was a prophet told thee…
‘Twas the night after Christmas, and all through the house
The stockings were flung in haste over the chair,For hopes of St. Nicholas were no longer there.The children were restlessly tossing in bed,For the pie and the candy were heavy as lead;While mamma in her kerchief, and I in my gown,Had just made up our minds that we would not lie down,When out on the…
Moo, moo, brown cow
Yes miss, three jugs smooth as silk.One for you,And one for me,And one for the little catWho sits in the tree.
SISTER, awake! close not your eyes!
And the bright morning doth ariseOut of her bed of roses.See the clear sun, the world’s bright eye,In at our window peeping:Lo, how he blusheth to espyUs idle wenches sleeping!Therefore awake! make haste, I say,And let us, without staying,All in our gowns of green so gayInto the Park a-maying!
LOVE not me for comely grace,
Nor for any outward part,No, nor for a constant heart:For these may fail or turn to ill,So thou and I shall sever:Keep, therefore, a true woman’s eye,And love me still but know not why–So hast thou the same reason stillTo doat upon me ever!
‘Oh, you must answer my questions nine,
Or you’re not God’s, you’re one of mine,And you are the weaver’s bonny.’‘What is whiter than the milk?Sing ninety-nine and ninety,And what is softer than the silk?And you are the weaver’s bonny.’‘Snow is whiter than the milk,Sing ninety-nine and ninety,And down is softer than the silk,And I am the weaver’s bonny.’‘O what is higher than…