Should I not put on blacks, when each one here Comes with his cypress and devotes a tear? Should I not grieve, my Lawes, when every lute, Viol, and voice is by thy loss struck mute?...
What times of sweetness this fair day foreshows, Whenas the Lily marries with the Rose! What next is look'd for? but we all should see To spring from thee a sweet posterity.
Ralph pares his nails, his warts, his corns, and Ralph In sev'rall tills and boxes, keeps 'em safe; Instead of hartshorn, if he speaks the troth, To make a lusty-jelly for his broth.
Rasp plays at nine-holes; and 'tis known he gets Many a tester by his game and bets: But of his gettings there's but little sign; When one hole wastes more than he gets by nine.
Reape's eyes so raw are that, it seems, the flies Mistake the flesh, and fly-blow both his eyes; So that an angler, for a day's expense, May bait his hook with maggots taken thence.
Even the shrewd and bitter, Gnarled by the old world's greed, Cherished the stranger softly Seeing his utter need. Shelter and patient hearing, These were their gifts to him,...
Rook he sells feathers, yet he still doth cry Fie on this pride, this female vanity. Thus, though the Rook does rail against the sin, He loves the gain that vanity brings in.
Roots had no money; yet he went o' the score, For a wrought purse; can any tell wherefore? Say, what should Roots do with a purse in print, That had not gold nor silver to put in't?
Under a lawn, than skies more clear, Some ruffled Roses nestling were, And snugging there, they seem'd to lie As in a flowery nunnery; They blush'd, and look'd more fresh than flowers...
Rush saves his shoes in wet and snowy weather; And fears in summer to wear out the leather; This is strong thrift that wary Rush doth use Summer and winter still to save his shoes.
Thrice happy roses, so much grac'd to have Within the bosom of my love your grave. Die when ye will, your sepulchre is known, Your grave her bosom is, the lawn the stone.
Of gentle blood, his parents' only treasure, Their lasting sorrow, and their vanish'd pleasure, Adorn'd with features, virtues, wit, and grace, A large provision for so short a race;...
Upon the rocks where the baubles of broken blue glass wink at the sun and gather strands of rusted wire with the occasional bloodroot wildflower, a man is unbending in his efforts to construct a stone rail fence. Specks of mica...
I said: "There is an end of my desire: Now have I sown, and I have harvested, And these are ashes of an ancient fire, Which, verily, shall not be quickened. Now will I take me to a place of peace,...
Now the busy screw is churning, Now the horrid sirens blow; Now are India's guests returning Home from India's Greatest Show; Now the gleeful Asiatic Speeds them on their wild career,...
In times of old, when Time was young, And poets their own verses sung, A verse would draw a stone or beam, That now would overload a team; Lead 'em a dance of many a mile,...
In times of old, when Time was young, And poets their own verses sung, A verse would draw a stone or beam, That now would overload a team; Lead 'em a dance of many a mile,...