All human things Of dearest value hang on slender strings. |
And as pale sickness does invade, Your frailer part, the breaches made, In that fair lodging still more clear, Make the bright guest, your soul, appear. |
Circle are praised, not that abound, In largeness, but the exactly round. |
Give us enough but with a sparing hand. |
Go, lovely rose! Tell her that wastes her time and me That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. |
How small a part of time they share,
That are so wondrous sweet and fair! |
Illustrious acts high raptures do infuse, And every conqueror creates a muse. |
In other things the knowing artist may, Judge better than the people; but a play, (Made for delight, and for no other use), If you approve it not, has no excuse. |
Leaving the old, both worlds at once they view, That stand upon the threshold of the new. |
Others may use the ocean as their road; Only the English make it their abode. |
Poets lose half the praise they should have got, Could it be known what they discreetly blot |
Poets lose half the praise they should have got, Could it be known what they discreetly blot |
Poets that lasting marble seek Must come in Latin or in Greek. |
Poets that lasting marble seek/ Must carve in Latin or in Greek. |
So all we know of what they do above, Is that they happy are, and that they love. |