Katherine Philips
To My Excellent Lucasia, On Our Friendship
I did not live until this time Crown’d my felicity, When I could say without a crime, I am not thine, but thee. This carcass breath’d, and walkt, and slept, So that the world
To One Persuading A Lady To Marriage
Forbear, bold youth; all ‘s heaven here, And what you do aver To others courtship may appear, ‘Tis sacrilege to her. She is a public deity; And were ‘t not very odd She should
To Mr. Vaughan, Silurist on His Poems
Had I ador’d the multitude, and thence Got an antipathy to wit and sence, And hug’d that fate, in hope the world would grant ‘Twas good affection to be ignorant; Yet the least ray
Against Love
Hence Cupid! with your cheating toys, Your real griefs, and painted joys, Your pleasure which itself destroys. Lovers like men in fevers burn and rave, And only what will injure them do crave. Men’s
La Solitude de St. Amant
1 O! Solitude, my sweetest choice Places devoted to the night, Remote from tumult, and from noise, How you my restless thoughts delight! O Heavens! what content is mine, To see those trees which
Arion to a Dolphin, On His Majesty's passage into England
Whom does this stately Navy bring? O! ’tis Great Britain’s Glorious King, Convey him then, ye Winds and Seas, Swift as Desire and calm as Peace. In your Respect let him survey What all
Orinda To Lucasia Parting October 1661 At London
Adieu dear object of my Love’s excess, And with thee all my hopes of happiness, With the same fervent and unchanged heart Which did it’s whole self once to thee impart, (And which though
To Mrs. M. A. at Parting
I Have examin’d and do find, Of all that favour me There’s none I grieve to leave behind But only only thee. To part with thee I needs must die, Could parting sep’rate thee
Content, To My Dearest Lucasia
Content, the false World’s best disguise, The search and faction of the Wise, Is so abstruse and hid in night, That, like that Fairy Red-cross Knight, Who trech’rous Falshood for clear Truth had got,
Orinda upon Little Hector Philips
Twice forty months of Wedlock did I stay, Then had my vows crown’d with a Lovely boy, And yet in forty days he dropt away, O swift Visissitude of humane joy. I did but
Epitaph on her Son H. P
WHat on Earth deserves our trust? Youth and Beauty both are dust. Long we gathering are with pain, What one moment calls again. Seven years childless, marriage past, A Son, a son is born
6th April 1651 L'Amitie: To Mrs. M. Awbrey
Soule of my soule! my Joy, my crown, my friend! A name which all the rest doth comprehend; How happy are we now, whose sols are grown, By an incomparable mixture, One: Whose well
In Memory of F. P
If I could ever write a lasting verse, It should be laid, deare Sainte, upon thy herse. But Sorrow is no muse, and doth confesse That it least can what most it would expresse.
To My Antenor
My dear Antenor now give o’re, For my sake talk of Graves no more; Death is not in our power to gain, And is both wish’d and fear’d in vain Let’s be as angry
A Retir'd Friendship
Come, my Ardelia, to this bowre, Where kindly mingling Souls a while, Let’s innocently spend an houre, And at all serious follys smile Here is no quarrelling for Crowns, Nor fear of changes in