FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   204   205   206   207   208   209   210   211   212   213   214   215   216   217   218   219   220   221   222   223   224   225   226   227   228  
229   230   231   232   233   234   235   236   237   238   239   240   241   242   243   244   245   246   247   248   249   250   251   252   253   >>   >|  
hind; unlearned be my wife; Peaceful my night; my day devoid of strife: To these a comely offspring I desire, Singing about my everlasting fire. _Hind_, country servant. 939. UPON JULIA WASHING HERSELF IN THE RIVER. How fierce was I, when I did see My Julia wash herself in thee! So lilies thorough crystal look: So purest pebbles in the brook: As in the river Julia did, Half with a lawn of water hid. Into thy streams myself I threw, And struggling there, I kiss'd thee too; And more had done, it is confess'd, Had not thy waves forbade the rest. 940. A MEAN IN OUR MEANS. Though frankincense the deities require, _We must not give all to the hallowed fire_. Such be our gifts, and such be our expense, As for ourselves to leave some frankincense. 941. UPON CLUNN. A roll of parchment Clunn about him bears, Charg'd with the arms of all his ancestors: And seems half ravish'd, when he looks upon That bar, this bend; that fess, this cheveron; This manch, that moon; this martlet, and that mound; This counterchange of pearl and diamond. What joy can Clunn have in that coat, or this, Whenas his own still out at elbows is? 942. UPON CUPID. Love, like a beggar, came to me With hose and doublet torn: His shirt bedangling from his knee, With hat and shoes outworn. He ask'd an alms; I gave him bread, And meat too, for his need: Of which, when he had fully fed, He wished me all good speed. Away he went, but as he turn'd (In faith I know not how) He touch'd me so, as that I burn['d], And am tormented now. Love's silent flames and fires obscure Then crept into my heart; And though I saw no bow, I'm sure His finger was the dart. 946. AN HYMN TO LOVE. I will confess With cheerfulness, Love is a thing so likes me, That let her lay On me all day, I'll kiss the hand that strikes me. I will not, I, Now blubb'ring, cry, It, ah! too late repents me, That I did fall To love at all, Since love so much contents me. No, no, I'll be In fetters free: While others they sit wringing Their hands for pain, I'll entertain The wounds of love with singing. With
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   204   205   206   207   208   209   210   211   212   213   214   215   216   217   218   219   220   221   222   223   224   225   226   227   228  
229   230   231   232   233   234   235   236   237   238   239   240   241   242   243   244   245   246   247   248   249   250   251   252   253   >>   >|  



Top keywords:

confess

 

frankincense

 
outworn
 

tormented

 

beggar

 
wished
 

bedangling

 

doublet

 

repents

 

contents


fetters

 

entertain

 
wounds
 

singing

 
wringing
 
strikes
 
flames
 

silent

 

obscure

 

finger


cheerfulness

 

crystal

 
purest
 

pebbles

 

streams

 

forbade

 
struggling
 

lilies

 

Singing

 

desire


everlasting

 

country

 

Peaceful

 

offspring

 

devoid

 

strife

 

comely

 
servant
 

fierce

 

WASHING


HERSELF

 

martlet

 
counterchange
 
cheveron
 

diamond

 

elbows

 

Whenas

 
ravish
 

hallowed

 

unlearned