Dew sate on Julia's hair, And spangled too, Like leaves that laden are With trembling dew; Or glitter'd to my sight, As when the beams Have their reflected light Danced by the streams.
Droop, droop no more, or hang the head, Ye roses almost withered; Now strength, and newer purple get, Each here declining violet. O primroses! let this day be A resurrection unto ye;...
As shows the air when with a rainbow grac'd, So smiles that riband 'bout my Julia's waist: Or like - nay 'tis that zonulet of love, Wherein all pleasures of the world are wove.
As shews the air when with a rain-bow graced, So smiles that ribbon 'bout my Julia's waist; Or like Nay, 'tis that Zonulet of love, Wherein all pleasures of the world are wove.
Would ye oil of blossoms get? Take it from my Julia's sweat: Oil of lilies and of spike? From her moisture take the like. Let her breathe, or let her blow, All rich spices thence will flow.
Tell, if thou canst, and truly, whence doth come This camphire, storax, spikenard, galbanum, These musks, these ambers, and those other smells Sweet as the Vestry of the Oracles....
Tell if thou canst, and truly, whence doth come This camphor, storax, spikenard, galbanum; These musks, these ambers, and those other smells, Sweet as the vestry of the oracles....
When I thy singing next shall hear, I'll wish I might turn all to ear, To drink-in notes and numbers, such As blessed souls can't hear too much Then melted down, there let me lie...
So smooth, so sweet, so silv'ry is thy voice, As, could they hear, the damn'd would make no noise, But listen to thee, walking in thy chamber, Melting melodious words to lutes of amber.
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....
Leech boasts, he has a pill, that can alone With speed give sick men their salvation: 'Tis strange, his father long time has been ill, And credits physic, yet not trusts his pill:...
Letcher was carted first about the streets, For false position in his neighbour's sheets: Next, hanged for thieving: now the people say, His carting was the prologue to this play.
Seal'd up with night-gum, Loach each morning lies, Till his wife licking, so unglues his eyes. No question then, but such a lick is sweet, When a warm tongue does with such ambers meet.
Love's a thing, as I do hear, Ever full of pensive fear; Rather than to which I'll fall, Trust me, I'll not like at all. If to love I should intend, Let my hair then stand an end:...
I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do? ANS. Like, and dislike ye. I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do? ANS. Stroke ye, to strike ye. I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do?...