15 quotes
Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee;
When thou art old there’s grief enough for thee.
Menaphon (1589)
Her body Beauty's best-esteemèd bower,
Delicious, comely, dainty, without stain.
Menaphon (1589)
Her paps are like fair apples in the prime,
As round as orient pearls, as soft as down;
They never vail their fair through winter's frown,
But from their sweets Love sucks his summertime.
Menaphon (1589)
Her lips are roses over-wash'd with dew,
Or like the purple of Narcissus' flower;
No frost their fair, no wind doth waste their power,
But by her breath her beauties do renew.
Menaphon (1589)
Her cheeks like ripen'd lilies steep'd in wine,
Or fair pomegranate-kernels wash'd in milk,
Or snow-white threads in nets of crimson silk,
Or gorgeous clouds upon the sun's decline.
Menaphon (1589)
Not Jove or Nature, should they both agree
To make a woman of the firmament,
Of his mix'd purity could not invent
A sky-born form so beautiful as she.
Menaphon (1589)
Her locks are plighted like the fleece of wool
That Jason with his Grecian mates achiev'd;
As pure as gold, yet not from gold deriv'd;
As full of sweets as sweet of sweets is full.
Menaphon (1589)
Her eyes, faire eyes, like to the purest lights
That animate the Sunne, or cheere the day,
In whom the shining Sun-beames brightly play
Whiles fancie dooth on them divine delights.
Menaphon (1589)
Her maiden mount, the dwelling-house of Pleasure;
Not like, for why no like surpasseth wonder:
O, blest is he may bring such beauties under,
Or search by suit the secrets of that treasure!
Menaphon (1589)
How oft have I descending Titan seen
His burning locks couch in the sea-queen's lap,
And beauteous Thetis his red body wrap
In watery robes, as he her lord had been!
Menaphon (1589)
Hir necke like to an yvorie shining tower
Where through with azure veynes sweete Nectar runnes,
Or like the downe of Swannes where Senesse woons,
Or like delight that doth it self devore.
Menaphon (1589)
The wanton smil'd, father wept,
Mother cried, baby lept;
More he crow'd, more we cried,
Nature could not sorrow hide:
He must go, he must kiss
Child and mother, baby bless,
For he left his pretty boy,
Father's sorrow, father's joy.
Menaphon (1589)
As fair Aurora in her morning-grey,
Deck'd with the ruddy glister of her love,
Is fair Samela.
Like lovely Thetis on a calmed day,
Whenas her brightness Neptune's fancy move,
Shines fair Samela.
Menaphon (1589)
Like to Diana in her summer-weed,
Girt with a crimson robe of brightest dye,
Goes fair Samela;
Whiter than be the flocks that straggling feed
When wash'd by Arethusa Fount they lie,
Is fair Samela.
Menaphon (1589)
Thus fair Samela
Passeth fair Venus in her bravest hue,
And Juno in the show of majesty,
For she's Samela;
Pallas in wit, all three, if you well view.
For beauty, wit, and matchless dignity,
Yield to Samela.
Menaphon (1589)