Here she lies, a pretty bud, Lately made of flesh and blood; Who as soon fell fast asleep, As her little eyes did peep. Give her strewings, but not stir The earth, that lightly covers her.
With the old kindness, the old distinguished grace She lies, her lovely piteous head amid dull red hair Propped upon pillows, rouge on the pallor of her face....
As gilliflowers do but stay To blow, and seed, and so away; So you, sweet lady, sweet as May, The garden's glory, lived a while To lend the world your scent and smile....
That morn which saw me made a bride, The evening witness'd that I died. Those holy lights, wherewith they guide Unto the bed the bashful bride, Serv'd but as tapers for to burn...
In this little vault she lies, Here, with all her jealousies: Quiet yet; but if ye make Any noise they both will wake, And such spirits raise 'twill then Trouble death to lay again.
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.
My Lucia in the dew did go, And prettily bedabbled so, Her clothes held up, she showed withal Her decent legs, clean, long, and small. I follow'd after to descry Part of the nak'd sincerity;...
Broomsted a lameness got by cold and beer: And to the bath went, to be cured there: His feet were helped, and left his crutch behind; But home returned, as he went forth, half blind.
Paske, though his debt be due upon the day Demands no money by a craving way; For why, says he, all debts and their arrears Have reference to the shoulders, not the ears.
To paint the fiend, Pink would the devil see; And so he may, if he'll be rul'd by me; Let but Pink's face i' th' looking-glass be shown, And Pink may paint the devil's by his own.
Who rashly strove thy Image to portray? Thou buoyant minion of the tropic air; How could he think of the live creature gay With a divinity of colours, drest In all her brightness, from the dancing crest...
Why do not all fresh maids appear To work love's sampler only here, Where spring-time smiles throughout the year? Are not here rosebuds, pinks, all flowers Nature begets by th' sun and showers,...