In ways to greatness think on this, That slippery all ambition is
Roses at first were white, Till thy co'd not agree, Whether my Sapho's breast, Or they more white sho'd be.
The May-pole is up, Now give me the cup; I'll drink to the garlands around it; But first unto those Whose hands did compose The glory of flowers that crown'd it.
Whatever comes, let's be content withal: Among God's blessings there is no one small.
Cherry-ripe, ripe, ripe, I cry, Full and fair ones; come and buy. If so be you ask me where They do grow, I answer: There, Where my Julia's lips do smile; There's the land, or cherry-isle, Whose plantations fully show All the year where cherries grow.
Rise and put on your foliage, and be seen To come forth, like the spring-time, fresh and green, And sweet as Flora. Take no care For jewels for your gown or hair Fear not; the leaves will strew Gems in abundance upon you Besides, the childhood of the day has kept, Against you come, some orient pearls unwept. Come, and receive them while the light Hangs on the dew-locks of the night And Titan on the eastern hill Retires himself, or else stands still Till you come forth! Wash, dress, be brief in praying Few beads are best when once we go a-Maying.
Lord, 'tis Thy plenty-dropping hand That soils my land, And giv'st me for my bushel sowne Twice ten for one. All this, and better, Thou dost send Me, to this end, That I should render, for my part, A thankful heart.
Fain would I kiss my Julia's dainty leg, Which is as white and hairless as an egg.
A careless shoe string, in whose tie I see a wilde civility.
The readiness of doing doth expresse No other but the doer's willingnesse.
Praise they that will times past, I joy to see My selfe now live: this age best pleaseth mee.
A winning wave, (deserving note.) In the tempestuous petticote, A careless shoe-string, in whose tye I see a wilde civility,-- Doe more bewitch me than when art Is too precise in every part.
Let wealth come in by comely thrift, And not by any sordid shift; 'T is haste Makes waste; Extremes have still their fault. Who gripes too hard the dry and slipp'ry sand, Holds none at all, or little, in his hand.
Give house-room to the best; 'tis never known Verture and pleasure both to dwell in one.
Love is maintain'd by wealth: when all is spent, Adversity then breeds the discontent.
Like will to like, each creature loves his kind.
Give, if thou can, an alms; if not, a sweet and gentle word.
Before man's fall the rose was born,St. Ambrose says, without the thorn;But for man's fault then was the thornWithout the fragrant rose-bud born; But ne'er the rose without the thorn.
Against diseases here the strongest fence is the defensive vertue, Abstinence.
When one is past, another care we have; Thus woe succeeds a woe, as wave a wave.
Tears are the noble language of the eye.
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