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 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 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 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 […]

Sonnet 127: In the old age black was not counted fair by William Shakespeare

In the old age black was not counted fair, Or if it were, it bore not beauty’s name; But now is black beauty’s successive heir, And beauty slandered with a bastard shame. For since each hand hath put on nature’s power, Fairing the foul with art’s false borrowed face, Sweet beauty hath no name no […]

Sonnet 126: O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power by William Shakespeare

O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power Dost hold Time’s fickle glass his fickle hour; Who hast by waning grown, and therein show’st Thy lovers withering, as thy sweet self grow’st. If Nature, sovereign mistress over wrack, As thou goest onwards, still will pluck thee back, She keeps thee to this purpose, that […]

Sonnet 125: Were’t aught to me I bore the canopy by William Shakespeare

Were’t aught to me I bore the canopy, With my extern the outward honouring, Or laid great bases for eternity, Which proves more short than waste or ruining? Have I not seen dwellers on form and favour Lose all, and more, by paying too much rent For compound sweet forgoing simple savour, Pitiful thrivers in […]

Sonnet 124: If my dear love were but the child of state by William Shakespeare

If my dear love were but the child of state, It might for Fortune’s bastard be unfathered, As subject to Time’s love or to Time’s hate, Weeds among weeds, or flowers with flowers gathered. No, it was builded far from accident; It suffers not in smiling pomp, nor falls Under the blow of thralled discontent, […]

Sonnet 122: Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain by William Shakespeare

Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain Full charactered with lasting memory, Which shall above that idle rank remain Beyond all date even to eternity— Or at the least, so long as brain and heart Have faculty by nature to subsist; Till each to razed oblivion yield his part Of thee, thy record never […]

Sonnet 121: Tis better to be vile than vile esteemed by William Shakespeare

‘Tis better to be vile than vile esteemed When not to be receives reproach of being, And the just pleasure lost, which is so deemed Not by our feeling, but by others’ seeing. For why should others’ false adulterate eyes Give salutation to my sportive blood? Or on my frailties why are frailer spies, Which […]

Sonnet 119: What potions have I drunk of Siren tears by William Shakespeare

What potions have I drunk of Siren tears, Distilled from limbecks foul as hell within, Applying fears to hopes, and hopes to fears, Still losing when I saw my self to win! What wretched errors hath my heart committed, Whilst it hath thought it self so blessèd never! How have mine eyes out of their […]

Sonnet 118: Like as to make our appetite more keen by William Shakespeare

Like as to make our appetite more keen With eager compounds we our palate urge, As to prevent our maladies unseen, We sicken to shun sickness when we purge. Even so being full of your ne’er-cloying sweetness, To bitter sauces did I frame my feeding; And, sick of welfare, found a kind of meetness To […]

Sonnet 117: Accuse me thus: that I have scanted all by William Shakespeare

Accuse me thus: that I have scanted all Wherein I should your great deserts repay, Forgot upon your dearest love to call, Whereto all bonds do tie me day by day; That I have frequent been with unknown minds, And given to time your own dear-purchased right; That I have hoisted sail to all the […]

Sonnet 116: Let me not to the marriage of true minds by William Shakespeare

Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove. O no, it is an ever-fixèd mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wand’ring bark, Whose worth’s unknown, although […]

Sonnet 115: Those lines that I before have writ do lie by William Shakespeare

Those lines that I before have writ do lie, Even those that said I could not love you dearer; Yet then my judgment knew no reason why My most full flame should afterwards burn clearer, But reckoning Time, whose millioned accidents Creep in ‘twixt vows, and change decrees of kings, Tan sacred beauty, blunt the […]

Sonnet 111: O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide by William Shakespeare

O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide, The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds, That did not better for my life provide Than public means which public manners breeds. Thence comes it that my name receives a brand, And almost thence my nature is subdued To what it works in, like the dyer’s […]