large/10730/rhomboidal_dirge_1604/dirge_wither_jdl_64kb_22
large/10730/rhomboidal_dirge_1604/dirge_wither_jdl_64kb
English
10730
Am I the swain That late from sorrow free Did all the cares on earth disdain? AM I THE SWAIN THAT LATE FROM SORROW FREE DID ALL THE CARES ON EARTH DISDAIN
 hills With some small number of such pretty rills As flow elsewhere, Arcadia had not seen A sweeter plot of earth than this had been. From _Faire Virtue_. Her Beauty Her true beauty leaves behind Apprehensions in my mind Of more sweetness than all art Or inventions can impart; Thoughts too deep to be expressed, And too strong to be suppressed.... ... What pearls, what rubies can Seem so lovely fair to man, As her lips whom he doth love When in sweet discourse they move: Or her lovelier teeth, the while She doth bless him with a smile! Stars indeed fair creatures be; Yet amongst us where is he Joys not more the whilst he lies Sunning in his mistress' eyes. Than in all the glimmering light Of a starry winter's night? Note the beauty of an eye, And if aught you praise it by Leave such passion in your mind, Let my reason's eye be blind. Mark if ever red or white Anywhere gave such delight As when they have taken place In a worthy woman's face. From _Faire Virtue_. Rhomboidal Dirge. Ah me!  RUMBOIDAL DIRGE BY GEORGE WITHER READ FOR LIVERPOXTA ORG BY JAMES LEAN AH ME
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