146 quotes
Men are suspicious, prone to discontent:
Subjects still loathe the present government.
Hesperides (1648)
'Tis hard to find God, but to comprehend
Him, as He is, is labour without end.
Hesperides (1648)
For pity, sir, find out that bee
Which bore my love away.
I'll seek him in your bonnet brave,
I'll seek him in your eyes.
Hesperides (1648)
Small griefs find tongues: full casques are ever found
To give, if any, yet but little sound.
Deep waters noyselesse are; and this we know,
That chiding streams betray small depth below.
Fall on me like a silent dew,
Or like those maiden showers
Which, by the peep of day, do strew
A baptism o’er the flowers.
Hesperides (1648)
Then come on, come on and yield
A savour like unto a blessed field
When the bedabbled morn
Washes the golden ears of corn.
Hesperides (1648)
The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,
The higher he's a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he's to setting.
Hesperides (1648)
Many a green-gown has been given;
Many a kiss, both odd and even:
Many a glance too has been sent
From out the eye, love's firmament.
Hesperides (1648)
Sweet, be not proud of those two eyes
Which, starlike, sparkle in their skies;
Nor be you proud that you can see
All hearts your captives, yours yet free.
Hesperides (1648)
Of both our fortunes good and bad we find
Prosperity more searching of the mind:
Felicity flies o'er the wall and fence,
While misery keeps in with patience.
Hesperides (1648)
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.
Hesperides (1648)
A virgin's face she had; her dress
Was like a sprightly Spartaness.
Hesperides (1648)
Cherry-ripe, ripe, ripe, I cry,
Full and fair ones; come and buy.
If so be you ask me where
They do grow, I answer: There,
Where my Julia's lips do smile;
There's the land, or cherry-isle,
Whose plantations fully show
All the year where cherries grow.
Hesperides (1648)
Some ask'd me where the rubies grew,
And nothing I did say;
But with my finger pointed to
The lips of Julia.
Hesperides (1648)
If anything delight me for to print
My book, 'tis this: that Thou, my God, art in't.
Hesperides (1648)
Her pretty feet
Like snails did creep
A little out, and then,
As if they playèd at Bo-Peep,
Did soon draw in again.
Hesperides (1648)
A little saint best fits a little shrine,
A little prop best fits a little vine:
As my small cruse best fits my little wine.
Hesperides (1648)
God doth not promise here to man that He
Will free him quickly from his misery;
But in His own time, and when He thinks fit,
Then He will give a happy end to it.
Hesperides (1648)
Here a little child I stand
Heaving up my either hand.
Cold as paddocks though they be,
Here I lift them up to Thee,
For a benison to fall
On our meat, and on us all. Amen.
Hesperides (1648)
The kiss of virgins, first fruits of the bed,
Soft speech, smooth touch, the lips, the maidenhead:
These and a thousand sweets could never be
So near or dear as thou wast once to me.
Hesperides (1648)