25 quotes
Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage;
Minds innocent and quiet take
That for an hermitage.
Those glories come too late
That on our ashes wait.
inscription on title-page of Posthumous Poems (1659)
The gods that wanton in the air
Know no such liberty.
I could not love thee, dear, so much,
Loved I not honor more.
Lucasta (1649)
Cease, large example of wise thrift a while.
Lucasta (1649)
Then unconfined each did tipple
Wine from the bunch, milk from the nipple;
Paps tractable as udders were.
As when she ceas'd, we sighing saw
The floore lay pav'd with broken hearts.
Lucasta (1649)
I could not love thee (Deare) so much,
Lov'd I not Honour more.
Lucasta (1649)
When flowing Cups run swiftly round
With no allaying Thames.
Lucasta (1649)
Then, if when I have lov'd my round,
Thou prov'st the pleasant she;
With spoils of meaner beauties crown'd,
I laden will return to thee,
Ev'n sated with variety.
Then Love, I beg, when next thou takest thy bow,
Thy angry shafts, and dost heart-chasing go,
Pass rascal deer, strike me the largest doe.
Lucasta (1649)
Am not I shot
With the selfe same artillery?
Lucasta (1649)
Poore verdant fool! and now green ice, thy joys
Large and as lasting, as thy perch of grass,
Bid us lay in 'gainst winter, raine, and poise
Their floods, with an o'erflowing glass.
Then Love, I beg, when next thou takest thy bow, . . .
Pass rascal deer, strike me the largest doe.
On cheeks and roses free he fed;
Lasses like Autumn plums did drop,
And lads indifferently did crop
A flower and a maiden-head.
Oh could you view the Melodie
Of ev'ry grace,
And Musick of her face,
You'd drop a teare,
Seeing more Harmonie
In her bright eye,
Then now you heare.
Lucasta (1649)
Oh! could you view the melody
Of every grace,
And music of her face,
You'd drop a tear,
Seeing more harmony
In her bright eye,
Than now you hear.
Heere wee'l strippe and coole our fire
In Creame below, in milke-baths higher:
And when all Well's are drawne dry,
I'le drink a tear out of thine eye.
Lucasta (1649)
Lucasta, that bright northerne star.
Lucasta (1649)
When thirsty griefe in Wine we steepe,
When Healths and draughts go free,
Fishes that tipple in the Deepe,
Know no such Libertie.
Lucasta (1649)