Employment (I)

Related poetry:

1. Love (I) Immortal love, authour of this great frame, Sprung from that beautie which can never fade; How hath man parcel’d out thy glorious name, And thrown it on that dust which thou hast made, While mortall love doth all the title gain! Which siding with invention, they together Bear all the sway, possessing heart and brain, […]...
2. Song To A Fair Young Lady Going Out Of Town In The Spring Ask not the cause why sullen spring So long delays her flow’rs to bear; Why warbling birds forget to sing, And winter storms invert the year? Chloris is gone; and Fate provides To make it spring where she resides. Chloris is gone, the cruel fair; She cast not back a pitying eye: But left her […]...
3. Sonnet XXXI: With How Sad Steps, O Moon With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb’st the skies! How silently, and with how wan a face! What, may it be that even in heav’nly place That busy archer his sharp arrows tries! Sure, if that long-with love-acquainted eyes Can judge of love, thou feel’st a lover’s case, I read it in thy looks; […]...
4. This Lady's Cruelty WITH how sad steps, O moon, thou climb’st the skies! How silently, and with how wan a face! What! may it be that even in heavenly place That busy archer his sharp arrows tries? Sure, if that long-with-love-acquainted eyes Can judge of love, thou feel’st a lover’s case: I read it in thy looks; thy […]...
5. Easter Rise, heart, thy lord is risen. Sing his praise Without delays, Who takes thee by the hand, that thou likewise With him may’st rise: That, as his death calcinиd thee to dust, His life may make thee gold, and, much more, just. Awake, my lute, and struggle for thy part With all thy art, The […]...
6. Psalm 63 Longing after God; or, The love of God better than life. Great God, indulge my humble claim, Thou art my hope, my joy, my rest; The glories that compose thy name Stand all engaged to make me blest. Thou great and good, thou just and wise, Thou art my Father and my God; And I […]...
7. The Temper How should I praise thee, Lord! how should my rhymes Gladly engrave thy love in steel, If what my soul doth feel sometimes My soul might ever feel! Although there were some forty heav’ns, or more, Sometimes I peer above them all; Sometimes I hardly reach a score, Sometimes to hell I fall. O rack […]...
8. Sonnet 76: Why is my verse so barren of new pride? Why is my verse so barren of new pride? So far from variation or quick change? Why with the time do I not glance aside To new-found methods, and to compounds strange? Why write I still all one, ever the same, And keep invention in a noted weed, That every word doth almost tell my […]...
9. Sonnet LXXXIII I never saw that you did painting need And therefore to your fair no painting set; I found, or thought I found, you did exceed The barren tender of a poet’s debt; And therefore have I slept in your report, That you yourself being extant well might show How far a modern quill doth come […]...
10. Sonnet 83: I never saw that you did painting need I never saw that you did painting need, And therefore to your fair no painting set; I found, or thought I found, you did exceed That barren tender of a poet’s debt; And therefore have I slept in your report, That you yourself being extant well might show How far a modern quill doth come […]...
11. Against Idleness and Mischief How doth the little busy Bee Improve each shining Hour, And gather Honey all the day From every opening Flower! How skilfully she builds her Cell! How neat she spreads the Wax! And labours hard to store it well With the sweet Food she makes. In Works of Labour or of Skill I would be […]...
12. Sonnet LXX That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect, For slander’s mark was ever yet the fair; The ornament of beauty is suspect, A crow that flies in heaven’s sweetest air. So thou be good, slander doth but approve Thy worth the greater, being woo’d of time; For canker vice the sweetest buds doth love, […]...
13. Sonnet 70: That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect, For slander’s mark was ever yet the fair; The ornament of beauty is suspect, A crow that flies in heaven’s sweetest air. So thou be good, slander doth but approve Thy worth the greater being wooed of time, For canker vice the sweetest buds doth love, […]...
14. Sonnet 80: O, how I faint when I of you do write O, how I faint when I of you do write, Knowing a better spirit doth use your name, And in the praise thereof spends all his might To make me tongue-tied speaking of your fame. But since your worth, wide as the ocean is, The humble as the proudest sail doth bear, My saucy bark, […]...
15. Sonnet LXXX O, how I faint when I of you do write, Knowing a better spirit doth use your name, And in the praise thereof spends all his might, To make me tongue-tied, speaking of your fame! But since your worth, wide as the ocean is, The humble as the proudest sail doth bear, My saucy bark […]...
16. Sonnet 39: O, how thy worth with manners may I sing O, how thy worth with manners may I sing, When thou art all the better part of me? What can mine own praise to mine own self bring? And what is’t but mine own when I praise thee? Even for this let us divided live, And our dear love lose name of single one, That […]...
17. Sonnet XXXIX O, how thy worth with manners may I sing, When thou art all the better part of me? What can mine own praise to mine own self bring? And what is ‘t but mine own when I praise thee? Even for this let us divided live, And our dear love lose name of single one, […]...
18. Sonnet IV: Unthrifty Loveliness, Why Dost Thou Spend Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend Upon thy self thy beauty’s legacy? Nature’s bequest gives nothing, but doth lend, And being frank she lends to those are free: Then, beauteous niggard, why dost thou abuse The bounteous largess given thee to give? Profitless usurer, why dost thou use So great a sum of sums, yet […]...
19. Church Monuments While that my soul repairs to her devotion, Here I intomb my flesh, that it betimes May take acquaintance of this heap of dust; To which the blast of death’s incessant motion, Fed with the exhalation of our crimes, Drives all at last. Therefore I gladly trust My body to this school, that it may […]...
20. Sonnet 4: Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend Upon thy self thy beauty’s legacy? Nature’s bequest gives nothing, but doth lend, And being frank she lends to those are free. Then, beauteous niggard why dost thou abuse, The bounteous largess given thee to give? Profitless usurer, why dost thou use So great a sum of sums yet […]...
21. Sonnet IV Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend Upon thyself thy beauty’s legacy? Nature’s bequest gives nothing but doth lend, And being frank she lends to those are free. Then, beauteous niggard, why dost thou abuse The bounteous largess given thee to give? Profitless usurer, why dost thou use So great a sum of sums, yet canst […]...
22. Sonnet 103: Alack, what poverty my Muse brings forth Alack, what poverty my Muse brings forth, That having such a scope to show her pride, The argument all bare is of more worth Than when it hath my added praise beside. O, blame me not if I no more can write! Look in your glass, and there appears a face That overgoes my blunt […]...
23. Sonnet (II) Sure Lord, there is enough in thee to dry Oceans of Ink ; for, as the Deluge did Cover the Earth, so doth thy Majesty : Each Cloud distills thy praise, and doth forbid Poets to turn it to another use. Roses and Lillies speak thee ; and to make A pair of Cheeks of […]...
24. Sonnet 79: Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid, My verse alone had all thy gentle grace, But now my gracious numbers are decayed, And my sick Muse doth give an other place. I grant, sweet love, thy lovely argument Deserves the travail of a worthier pen, Yet what of thee thy poet doth invent He […]...
25. Good Friday O my chief good, How shall I measure out thy blood? How shall I count what thee befell, And each grief tell? Shall I thy woes Number according to thy foes? Or, since one star show’d thy first breath, Shall all thy death? Or shall each leaf, Which falls in Autumn, score a grief? Or […]...
26. Sonnet LXXIX Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid, My verse alone had all thy gentle grace, But now my gracious numbers are decay’d And my sick Muse doth give another place. I grant, sweet love, thy lovely argument Deserves the travail of a worthier pen, Yet what of thee thy poet doth invent He robs […]...
27. Providence O Sacred Providence, who from end to end Strongly and sweetly movest! shall I write, And not of thee, through whom my fingers bend To hold my quill? shall they not do thee right? Of all the creatures both in sea and land Onely to Man thou hast made known thy wayes, And put the […]...
28. The Thanksgiving Oh King of grief! (a title strange, yet true, To thee of all kings only due) Oh King of wounds! how shall I grieve for thee, Who in all grief preventest me? Shall I weep blood? why thou has wept such store That all thy body was one door. Shall I be scourged, flouted, boxed, […]...
29. Sonnet CXXXIV So, now I have confess’d that he is thine, And I myself am mortgaged to thy will, Myself I’ll forfeit, so that other mine Thou wilt restore, to be my comfort still: But thou wilt not, nor he will not be free, For thou art covetous and he is kind; He learn’d but surety-like to […]...
30. Sonnet 149: Canst thou, O cruel, say I love thee not Canst thou, O cruel, say I love thee not, When I against my self with thee partake? Do I not think on thee when I forgot Am of my self, all tyrant, for thy sake? Who hateth thee that I do call my friend? On whom frown’st thou that I do fawn upon? Nay, if […]...
31. My Pretty Rose Tree A flower was offered to me; Such a flower as May never bore. But I said I’ve a Pretty Rose-tree. And I passed the sweet flower o’er. Then I went to my Pretty Rose-tree: To tend her by day and by night. But my Rose turnd away with jealousy: And her thorns were my only […]...
32. Sonnet 134: So, now I have confessed that he is thine So, now I have confessed that he is thine, And I my self am mortgaged to thy will, Myself I’ll forfeit, so that other mine Thou wilt restore to be my comfort still. But thou wilt not, nor he will not be free, For thou art covetous, and he is kind, He learned but surety-like […]...
33. A Calendar of Sonnets: June O month whose promise and fulfilment blend, And burst in one! it seems the earth can store In all her roomy house no treasure more; Of all her wealth no farthing have to spend On fruit, when once this stintless flowering end. And yet no tiniest flower shall fall before It hath made ready at […]...
34. Sonnet XIV: Alas, Have I Not Alas, have I not pain enough, my friend, Upon whose breast a fiercer gripe doth tire, Than did on him who first stole down the fire, While Love on me doth all his quiver spend, But with your rhubarb words you must contend, To grieve me worse, in saying that desire Doth plunge my well-form’d […]...
35. Sonnet CXLIX Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not, When I against myself with thee partake? Do I not think on thee, when I forgot Am of myself, all tyrant, for thy sake? Who hateth thee that I do call my friend? On whom frown’st thou that I do fawn upon? Nay, if thou lour’st […]...
36. Sonnet LXIX Those parts of thee that the world’s eye doth view Want nothing that the thought of hearts can mend; All tongues, the voice of souls, give thee that due, Uttering bare truth, even so as foes commend. Thy outward thus with outward praise is crown’d; But those same tongues that give thee so thine own […]...
37. Sonnet 9: Is it for fear to wet a widow's eye Is it for fear to wet a widow’s eye, That thou consum’st thy self in single life? Ah, if thou issueless shalt hap to die, The world will wail thee like a makeless wife. The world will be thy widow and still weep, That thou no form of thee hast left behind, When every private […]...
38. Repentance Lord, I confess my sin is great; Great is my sin. Oh! gently treat With thy quick flow’r, thy momentany bloom; Whose life still pressing Is one undressing, A steady aiming at a tomb. Man’s age is two hours’ work, or three: Each day doth round about us see. Thus are we to delights: but […]...
39. Sonnet 69: Those parts of thee that the world's eye doth view Those parts of thee that the world’s eye doth view Want nothing that the thought of hearts can mend; All tongues, the voice of souls, give thee that due, Utt’ring bare truth, even so as foes commend. Thy outward thus with outward praise is crowned, But those same tongues that give thee so thine own […]...
40. Sonnet IX Is it for fear to wet a widow’s eye That thou consumest thyself in single life? Ah! if thou issueless shalt hap to die. The world will wail thee, like a makeless wife; The world will be thy widow and still weep That thou no form of thee hast left behind, When every private widow […]...