Love Compared To A Game Of Tables by William Strode
Love Compared To A Game Of Tables by William Strode Love is a game at tables where the dye Of mayds affections doth by fancie fly: If once you catch their fancie in a blott It’s tenne to one if then you enter not: You being a gamester then may boldly venter, And if you […]
Keepe On Your Maske (Version for his Mistress) by William Strode
Keepe On Your Maske (Version for his Mistress) by William Strode Keepe on your maske and hide your eye For in beholding you I dye. Your fatall beauty Gorgon-like Dead with astonishment doth strike. Your piercing eyes that now I see Are worse than Basilisks to me. Shut from mine eyes those hills of snow, […]
Keepe On Your Maske And Hide Your Eye by William Strode
Keepe On Your Maske And Hide Your Eye by William Strode Keepe on your maske, and hide your eye, For with beholding you I dye: Your fatall beauty, Gorgon-like, Dead with astonishment will strike; Your piercing eyes if them I see Are worse than basilisks to mee. Shutt from mine eyes those hills of snowe, […]
Justification by William Strode
Justification by William Strode See how the Rainbow in the skie Seems gaudy through the Suns bright eye; Harke how an Eccho answere makes, Feele how a board is smooth’d with waxe, Smell how a glove putts on perfume, Tast how theyr sweetnesse pills assume: So by imputed Justice, Clay Seemes faire, well spoke, smooth, […]
Jacke-On-Both-Sides by William Strode
Jacke-On-Both-Sides by William Strode I hold as fayth What Rome’s Church sayth Where the King’s head, That flock’s misled Where th’ Altar’s drest That People’s blest Who shuns the Masse Hee’s but an Asse Who Charity preach They Heav’n soone reach On Fayth t’rely, ‘Tis heresy What England’s Church allows My Conscience disavowes; That Church […]
William Strode – William Strode
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In Commendation Of Musick by William Strode
In Commendation Of Musick by William Strode When whispering straynes doe softly steale With creeping passion through the hart, And when at every touch wee feele Our pulses beate and beare a part; When thredds can make A hartstring shake Philosophie Can scarce deny The soule consists of harmony. When unto heavenly joy wee feyne […]
Her Epitaph by William Strode
Her Epitaph by William Strode Happy Grave, thou dost enshrine That which makes thee a rich mine: Remember yet, ’tis but a loane; And wee must have it back, Her owne, The very same; Marke mee, the same: Thou canst not cheat us with a lame Deformed Carcase; Shee was fayre, Fresh as Morning, sweete […]
For A Gentleman, Who, Kissinge His Friend At His Departure Left A Signe Of Blood On Her by William Strode
For A Gentleman, Who, Kissinge His Friend At His Departure Left A Signe Of Blood On Her by William Strode What mystery was this; that I should finde My blood in kissing you to stay behinde? ‘Twas not for want of color that requirde My blood for paynt: No dye could be desirde On that […]
Epitaph On Mr. Bridgeman by William Strode
Epitaph On Mr. Bridgeman by William Strode One pitt containes him now that could not dye Before a thousand pitts in him did lye; Soe many spotts upon his flesh were shewne ‘Cause on his soule sinne fastned almost none. ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by […]
Consolatorium, Ad Parentes by William Strode
Consolatorium, Ad Parentes by William Strode Lett her parents then confesse That they beleeve her happinesse, Which now they question. Thinke as you Lent her the world, Heaven lent her you: And is it just then to complayne When each hath but his owne againe? Then thinke what both your glories are In her preferment: […]
Chloris in the Snow by William Strode
Chloris in the Snow by William Strode I SAW fair Chloris walk alone, When feather’d rain came softly down, As Jove descending from his Tower To court her in a silver shower: The wanton snow flew to her breast, Like pretty birds into their nest, But, overcome with whiteness there, For grief it thaw’d into […]
Anthem For Good Fryday by William Strode
Anthem For Good Fryday by William Strode See sinfull soul thy Saviours suffering see, His Blessed hands and feet fix’t fast to tree: Observe what Rivulets of blood stream forth His painful pierced side, each drop more worth Than tongue of men and Angels can express: Hast to him, cursed Caitiffe, and confess All thy […]
An Epitaph On Sr John Walter, Lord Cheife Baron by William Strode
An Epitaph On Sr John Walter, Lord Cheife Baron by William Strode Farewell Example, Living Rule farewell; Whose practise shew’d goodness was possible, Who reach’d the full outstretch’d perfection Of Man, of Lawyer, and of Christian. Suppose a Man more streight than Reason is, Whose grounded Habit could not tread amisse Though Reason slepd; a […]
An Epitaph On Mr. Fishborne The Great London Benefactor, And His Executor by William Strode
An Epitaph On Mr. Fishborne The Great London Benefactor, And His Executor by William Strode What are thy gaines, O death, if one man ly Stretch’d in a bed of clay, whose charity Doth hereby get occasion to redeeme Thousands out of the grave: though cold hee seeme He keepes those warme that else would […]
An Eare-Stringe by William Strode
An Eare-Stringe by William Strode ‘Tis vayne to add a ring or gemme, Your eare itselfe outpasseth them. When idle words are passing here, I warne and pull you by the eare. This silken chayne stands wayting here For golden tongues to tye on there. Here silken twynes, there locks you see– Now tell me […]
An Antheme by William Strode
An Antheme by William Strode O sing a new song to the Lord, Praise in the hight and deeper strayne; Come beare your parts with one accord, Which you in Heaven may sing againe. Yee elders all, and all the crowd That in white robes apparrell’d stands Like Saints on earth, sing out aloud, Think […]
A Watch-String by William Strode
A Watch-String by William Strode Tyme’s picture here invites your eyes, See with how running wheeles it flyes! These strings can do what no man could– The tyme they fast in prison hold. ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and subject. Poetry Monster — the […]
A Watch Sent Home To Mrs. Eliz: King, Wrapt In Theis Verses by William Strode
A Watch Sent Home To Mrs. Eliz: King, Wrapt In Theis Verses by William Strode Goe and count her better houres; They more happie are than ours. The day that gives her any blisse Make it as long againe as tis: The houre shee smiles in lett it bee By thy art increas’d to three: […]
A Translation Of The Nightingale Out Of Strada by William Strode
A Translation Of The Nightingale Out Of Strada by William Strode Now the declining sun ‘gan downwards bend From higher heavens, and from his locks did send A milder flame, when near to Tiber’s flow A lutinist allay’d his careful woe With sounding charms, and in a greeny seat Of shady oake took shelter from […]
A Superscription On Sir Philip Sidney’s Arcadia, Sent For A Token by William Strode
A Superscription On Sir Philip Sidney’s Arcadia, Sent For A Token by William Strode Whatever in Philoclea the fair Or the discreet Pamela figur’d are, Change but the name the virtues are your owne, And for a fiction there a truth is knowne: If any service here perform’d you see, If duty and affection paynted […]
A Strange Gentlewoman Passing By His Window by William Strode
A Strange Gentlewoman Passing By His Window by William Strode As I out of a casement sent Mine eyes as wand’ring as my thought, Upon no certayne object bent, But only what occasion brought, A sight surpriz’d my hart at last, Nor knewe I well what made it burne; Amazement held me then so fast […]
A Song On The Baths by William Strode
A Song On The Baths by William Strode What Angel stirrs this happy Well, Some Muse from thence come shew’t me, One of those naked Graces tell That Angels are for beauty: The Lame themselves that enter here Come Angels out againe, And Bodies turne to Soules all cleere, All made for joy, noe payne. […]
A Song On A Sigh by William Strode
A Song On A Sigh by William Strode O tell mee, tell, thou god of wynde, In all thy cavernes canst thou finde A vapor, fume, a gale or blast Like to a sigh which love doth cast? Can any whirlwynde in thy vault Plough upp earth’s breast with like assault? Goe wynde and blowe […]
A Riddle: On A Kiss by William Strode
A Riddle: On A Kiss by William Strode What thing is that, nor felt nor seene Till it bee given? a present for a Queene: A fine conceite to give and take the like: The giver yet is farther for to seeke; The taker doth possesse nothing the more, The giver hee hath nothing lesse […]
A Purse-String by William Strode
A Purse-String by William Strode We hugg, imprison, hang, and save, This foe, this friend, our Lord, our slave. While thus I hang, you threatned see The fate of him that stealeth mee. ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and subject. Poetry Monster — the […]
A Paralell Between Bowling And Preferment by William Strode
A Paralell Between Bowling And Preferment by William Strode Preferment, like a Game at bowles, To feede our hope with diverse play Heer quick it runnes, there soft it rowles: The Betters make and shew the way. As upper ground, so great Allies Doe many cast on theyr desire: Some uppe are thrust, and forc’t […]
A New Year’s Gift by William Strode
A New Year’s Gift by William Strode We are prevented; you whose Presence is A Publick New-yeares gift, a Common bliss To all that Love or Feare, give no man leave To vie a Gift but first he shall receave; Like as the Persian Sun with golden Eies First shines upon the Priest and Sacrifice. […]
A Necklace by William Strode
A Necklace by William Strode These veines are nature’s nett, These cords by art are sett. If love himselfe flye here, Love is intangled here. Loe! on my neck this twist I bind, For to hang him that steales my mynde: Unless hee hang alive in chaynes I hang and dye in lingring paynes. Theis […]
A Lover To His Mistress by William Strode
A Lover To His Mistress by William Strode Ile tell you how the Rose did first grow redde, And whence the Lilly whitenesse borrowed: You blusht, and then the Rose with redde was dight: The Lillies kissde your hands, and so came white: Before that time each Rose had but a stayne, The Lilly nought […]
A Girdle by William Strode
A Girdle by William Strode Whene’er the wast makes too much hast, That hast againe makes too much wast. I here stand keeper while ’tis light, ‘Tis theft to enter when ’tis night. This girdle doth the wast embrace To keepe all others from that place. This circle here is drawne about To keepe all […]