It is usual for people in this country (out of pretended respect but rather from an impertinent curiosity) to desire to see persons after they are dead. ...
Queen and huntress, chaste and fair, Now the sun is laid to sleep, Seated in thy silver chair, State in wonted manner keep: Hesperus entreats thy light, Goddess excellently bright. ...
In the ember days of my last free summer, here I lie, outside myself, watching the gross body eating a poor curry: satisfied at what I have done, scared of what I have to do in my last free winter.
Don Surly, to aspire the glorious name Of a great man, and to be thought the same, Makes serious use of all great trade he know. He speaks to men with a Rhinocerotes' nose,...
Here lies to each her parents' Ruth, Mary, the daughter of their youth: Yet, all heaven's gifts, being heaven's due, It makes the father, less, to rue. At six months' end, she parted hence...
He smashed his hand in opening a door for her, and less pain than embarrassment shrieked through him. Concealing both, grimacing as if theatrically, he asked himself...
Queen and huntress, chaste and fair, Now the sun is laid to sleep, Seated in thy silver chair State in wonted manner keep: Hesperus entreats thy light, Goddess excellently bright. ...
Donne, the delight of Phoebus and each Muse Who, to thy one, all other brains refuse; Whose every work of thy most early wit Came forth example, and remains so yet; Longer a-knowing than most wits do live;...
Lucy, you brightness of our sphere, who are Life of the Muses' day, their morning star! If works, not th' author's, their own grace should look, Whose poems would not wish to be your book?...