Poetry
NecrologicalThe friar had said his paternosters dulyAnd scourged his limbs, and afterwards would have slept;But with much riddling his head became unruly,He arose, from the quiet monastery he crept.Dawn lightened …
1.When night's blacke Mantle could most darknesse prove,And sleepe (deaths Image) did my senses hyre,From Knowledge of my selfe, then thoughts did moveSwifter then those, most [swiftnesse] neede require.In sleepe, …
When Lovely Woman Stoops to FollyWhen lovely woman stoops to folly,And finds too late that men betray,What charm can sooth her melancholy,What art can wash her guilt away?The only art …
The Golden LandO sweet September in the valleyCarved through the green hills, sheer and straight,Where the tall trees crowd round and sallyDown the slope sides, with stately gaitAnd sylvan dance: …