Let it not your wonder move, Less your laughter, that I love. Though I now write fifty years, I have had, and have, my peers; Poets, though divine, are men, Some have lov'd as old again....
See the chariot at hand here of Love, Wherein my lady rideth! Each that draws is a swan or a dove, And well the car Love guideth. As she goes, all hearts do duty Unto her beauty;...
Kim, composite of all my loves, less real than most, more real than all; of my making, all the good and some of the bad, yet of yourself; sole, unique, strong, alone, whole, independent, one: yet mine...
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.
Tonight, grave sir, both my poor house and I Do equally desire your company; Not that we think us worthy such a guest, But that your worth will dignify our feast...
It is not growing like a tree In bulk doth make Man better be; Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere: A lily of a day Is fairer far in May,...
I now think Love is rather deaf than blind, For else it could not be That she, Whom I adore so much, should so slight me And cast my love behind; I'm sure my language to her was as sweet,...
Come, leave the loathed stage, And the more loathsome age; Where pride and impudence, in faction knit, Usurp the chair of wit! Indicting and arraigning every day Something they call a play....
Brave infant of Saguntum, clear Thy coming forth in that great year, When the prodigious Hannibal did crown His rage, with razing your immortal town. Thou looking then about...
Some act of Love's bound to reherse, I thought to bind him, in my verse: Which when he felt, Away (quoth he) Can Poets hope to fetter me? It is enough, they once did get...