Know when to speak - for many times it brings danger, to give the best advice to kings.
Here a little child I stand, Heaving up my either hand; Cold as paddocks though they be, Here I lift them up to Thee, for a benison to fall on our meat, and on us all. Amen.
Hell is no other but a soundlesse pit, Where no one beame of comfort peeps in it.
For pitty, Sir, find out that Bee Which bore my Love away I'le seek him in your Bonnet brave, I'le seek him in your eyes.
Tears are the noble language of the eye.
Roses at first were white, Till thy co'd not agree, Whether my Sapho's breast, Or they more white sho'd be.
In ways to greatness think on this, That slippery all ambition is
It is an active flame that fliesFirst to the babies in the eyes.
A little saint best fits a little shrine, A little prop best fits a little vine, As my small cruse best fits my little wine.
Give house-room to the best; 'tis never known Verture and pleasure both to dwell in one.
Let my muse Fail of thy former helps, and only use Her inadulterate strength. What's done by me Hereafter shall smell of the lamp, not thee.
O thou, the drink of gods and angels! Wine
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.
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.
Next, when I cast mine eyes and see That brave vibration each way free, O how that glittering taketh me!
So when or you or I are made A fable, song, or fleeting shade; All love, all liking, all delight Lies drowned with us in endless night. Then while time serves, and we are but decaying; Come, my Corinna, come, let's go a Maying.
Hast thou attempted greatnesse? Then go on; Back-turning slackens resolution.
When the tempter me pursueth With the sins of all my youth, And half damns me with untruth, Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
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.
Like will to like, each creature loves his kind.
He loves his bonds who, when the first are broke, Submits his neck into a second yoke.
Outdid the meat, outdid the frolic wine.
Fain would I kiss my Julia's dainty leg, Which is as white and hairless as an egg.
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