| |
| | Against diseases here the strongest fence, |
| Is the defensive virtue, abstinence. |
| 1 |
| | All things decay with time; the forest sees |
| The growth and downfall of her aged trees: |
| That timber tall, which threescore lustres stood |
| The proud dictator of the state-like wood— |
| I mean the sov’reign of all plants, the oak, |
| Droops, dies, and falls without the cleaver’s stroke. |
| 2 |
| | Attempt the end, and never stand to doubt; |
| Nothing’s so hard but search will find it out. |
| 3 |
| | Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, |
| Old Time is still a-flying; |
| And this same flower that smiles to-day |
| To-morrow will be dying. |
| 4 |
| | Give house-room to the best; ’tis never known |
| Vertue and pleasure both to dwell in one. |
| 5 |
| | Give me a kisse, and to that kisse a score; |
| Then to that twenty, adde a hundred more; |
| A thousand to that hundred; so kiss on, |
| To make that thousand up a million; |
| Treble that million, and when that is done, |
| Let’s kisse afresh, as when we first begun. |
| 6 |
| | Go to your banquet then, but use delight |
| So as to rise still with an appetite. |
| 7 |
| | Hast thou attempted greatness? |
| Then go on; |
| Back-turning slackens resolution. |
| 8 |
| | He who has suffered shipwreck, fears to sail |
| Upon the seas, though with a gentle gale. |
| 9 |
| | Hell is no other but a soundless pit, |
| Where no one beame of comfort peeps in it. |
| 10 |
| | 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. |
| 11 |
| | I saw a flie within a beade |
| Of amber cleanly buried. |
| 12 |
| | In prayer the lips ne’er act the winning part |
| Without the sweet concurrence of the heart. |
| 13 |
| | Know when to speak, for many times it brings |
| Danger to give the best advice to kings. |
| 14 |
| | Learn this of me, where’er thy lot doth fall, |
| Short lot, or not, to be content with all. |
| 15 |
| | Let wealth come in by comely thrift, |
| And not by any sordid shift; |
| ’T is haste |
| Make waste; |
| Extremes have still their fault. |
| Who gripes too hard the dry and slipp’ry sand, |
| Holds none at all, or little, in his hand. |
| 16 |
| | Let’s live with that small pittance which we have; |
| Who covets more is evermore a slave. |
| 17 |
| | Like will to like; each creature loves his kind. |
| Chaste words proceed still from a bashful mind. |
| 18 |
| | Love is maintain’d by wealth: when all is spent, |
| Adversity then breeds the discontent. |
| 19 |
| | Oft have I heard both youths and virgins say, |
| Birds choose their mates, and couple too, this day; |
| But by their flight I never can divine |
| When I shall couple with my Valentine. |
| 20 |
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| |
| | Our present tears here, not our present laughter |
| Are but the handsells of our joys hereafter. |
| 21 |
| | Some ask’d how pearls did grow, and where? |
| Then spoke I to my girl, |
| To part her lips, and show’d them there |
| The quarrelets of Pearl. |
| 22 |
| | Temptations hurt not, though they have accesse; |
| Satan o’ercomes none but by willingnesse. |
| 23 |
| | The readinesse of doing doth expresse |
| No of other but the doer’s willingnesse. |
| 24 |
| | The stars of the night |
| Will lend thee their light, |
| Like tapers clear without number! |
| 25 |
| | Thou art a plant sprung up to wither never |
| But, like a laurel, to grow green forever. |
| 26 |
| | Thus times do shift; each thing his turne does hold; |
| New things succeed, as former things grow old. |
| 27 |
| | ’Tis hard to find God, but to comprehend |
| Him, as He is, is labour without end. |
| 28 |
| | To get thine ends, lay bashfulnesse aside; |
| Who feares to aske, doth teach to be deny’d. |
| 29 |
| | ’Twixt kings and tyrants there’s this difference known |
| Kings seek their subjects’ good, tyrants their own. |
| 30 |
| | Upon her cheeks she wept, and from those showers |
| Sprang up a sweet nativity of flowers. |
| 31 |
| | We credit most our sight; one eye doth please |
| Our trust far more than ten ear witnesses. |
| 32 |
| | What is a kisse? Why this, as some approve: |
| The sure sweet sement, glue, and lime of love. |
| 33 |
| | When one is past, another care we have; |
| Thus woe succeeds a woe, as wave a wave. |
| 34 |
| | When words we want, love teacheth to indite; |
| And what we blush to speak, she bids us write. |
| 35 |
| | Who after his transgression doth repent, |
| Is halfe, or altogether, innocent. |
| 36 |
| A spark neglected makes a mighty fire. | 37 |
| But ne’er the rose without the thorn. | 38 |
| It is the will that makes the action good or ill. | 39 |
| Kings ought to shear, not skin their sheep. | 40 |
| Necessity makes dastards valiant men. | 41 |
| Nothing is so hard but search will find it out. | 42 |
| Satan o’ercomes none but by willingness. | 43 |
| Tears are the noble language of the eye. | 44 |
| That happiness does still the longest thrive where joys and griefs have turns alternative. | 45 |
| That man lives twice that lives the first life well. | 46 |
| The breath of popular applause. | 47 |
| The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun. | 48 |
| Thus woe succeeds a woe, as wave a wave. | 49 |
| ’T is the will that makes the action good or ill. | 50 |
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