Author: William Strode

Keepe on your maske and hide your eye For in beholding you I dye. Your fatall beauty Gorgon-like Dead with […]

Whatever in Philoclea the fair Or the discreet Pamela figur’d are, Change but the name the virtues are your owne, […]

There is a thing that nothing is, A foolish wanton, sober wise; It hath noe wings, noe eyes, noe eares, […]

Keepe on your maske, and hide your eye, For with beholding you I dye: Your fatall beauty, Gorgon-like, Dead with […]

Come, come, I faint: thy heavy stay Doubles each houre of the day: The winged hast of nimble love Makes […]

Great Lady, Humble partners of like griefe In bringing Comfort may deserve beliefe, Because they Feele and Feyne not: Thus […]

Is Death so cunning now that all her blowe Aymes at the heade? Doth now her wary Bowe Make surer […]

Goe and count her better houres; They more happie are than ours. The day that gives her any blisse Make […]

Hide not that sprouting lipp, nor kill The juicy bloome with bashfull skill: Know it is an amorous dewe That […]

You that affright with lamentable notes The servants from their beef, whose hungry throats Vex the grume porter’s surly conscience: […]