The boy lay dead On the low couch, on whose denuded whole, To Hadrian's eyes, that at their seeing bled, The shadowy light of Death's eclipse was shed....
It's the curiousest thing in creation, Whenever I hear that old song "Do They Miss Me at Home," I'm so bothered, My life seems as short as it's long! - Fer ev'rything 'pears like adzackly...
Sonnets are full of love, and this my tome Has many sonnets: so here now shall be One sonnet more, a love sonnet, from me To her whose heart is my heart's quiet home,...
Like Princes crowned they bore them, Like Demi-Gods they wrought, When the New World lay before them In headlong fact and thought. Fate and their foemen proved them Above all meed of praise,...
Oh, daughter, lovelier than your lovely mother, Whatever punishment you may desire Give my offending verses; in the fire Throw them, please you, or in the Adriatic. Not Dindymene, no, nor even Apollo...
Till I shall come again, let this suffice, I send my salt, my sacrifice To thee, thy lady, younglings, and as far As to thy Genius and thy Lar; To the worn threshold, porch, hall, parlour, kitchen,...
On the happy entrace of Iames, our Soveraigne, to His first high Session of Parliament in this his Kingdome, the 19 of March, 1603. Licet toto nunc Helicone frui.
The cheese-mites asked how the cheese got there, And warmly debated the matter; The Orthodox said that it came from the air, And the Heretics said from the platter....
I Picked a rustic nosegay lately, And bore it homewards, musing greatly; When, heated by my hand, I found The heads all drooping tow'rd the ground. I plac'd them in a well-cool'd glass,...
The church bells were ringing, the devil sat singing On the stump of a rotting old tree; 'Oh faith it grows cold, and the creeds they grow old, And the world is nigh ready for me.' ...
Is this a life, to break thy sleep, To rise as soon as day doth peep? To tire thy patient ox or ass By noon, and let thy good days pass, Not knowing this, that Jove decrees...
Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name; Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth, in Heaven the same; Give us this day our daily bread, and may our debts to heaven--...
Syn that you, Chloe, to your moder sticken, Maketh all ye yonge bacheloures full sicken; Like as a lyttel deere you ben y-hiding Whenas come lovers with theyre pityse chiding....