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The beades in the Hand, and the Divell in Capuch (or cape of the
cloak).
The beades in the Hand, and the Divell in Capuch (or cape of the
cloak).
There are a kind of men so loose of soul,
That in their sleeps will mutter their affairs.
There are a kind of men so loose of soul,
That in their sleeps will mutter their affairs.
Yet a little while, and (the happy hour) will be over, nor ever
more shall we be able to read more
Yet a little while, and (the happy hour) will be over, nor ever
more shall we be able to recall it.
Such pains they take to look pretty.
Such pains they take to look pretty.
As many men as there are existing, so many are their different
pursuits.
As many men as there are existing, so many are their different
pursuits.
She never told her love,
But let concealment, like a worm i' th' bud,
Feed on her read more
She never told her love,
But let concealment, like a worm i' th' bud,
Feed on her damask cheek. She pined in thought;
And, with a green and yellow melancholy,
She sat like Patience on a monument,
Smiling at grief.
Who could tell such a story with dry eyes?
Who could tell such a story with dry eyes?
Hee that demands misseth not, unlesse his demands be foolish.
Hee that demands misseth not, unlesse his demands be foolish.
The jackdaw, stript of her stolen colours, provokes our laughter.
The jackdaw, stript of her stolen colours, provokes our laughter.
