The Works of Sir John Suckling: Containing His Poems, Letters and Plays

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J. Tonson, 1709 - 376 Seiten
 

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Seite 31 - Her lips were red, and one was thin ; Compared to that was next her chin, Some bee had stung it newly ; But Dick, her eyes so guard her face, I durst no more upon them gaze, Than on the sun in July.
Seite 31 - Her finger was so small, the ring Would not stay on which they did bring, It was too wide a peck; And to say truth, for out it must, It looked like the great collar just About our young colt's neck.
Seite 32 - March'd boldly up like our train'd band, Presented, and away. When all the meat was on the table, What man of knife, or teeth, was able To stay to be entreated?
Seite 31 - Her lips were red; and one was thin Compared to that was next her chin, Some bee had stung it newly: But, Dick, her eyes so guard her face, I durst no more upon them gaze Than on the sun in July. Her mouth so small, when she does speak...
Seite 32 - Her mouth so small, when she does speak, Thou'dst swear her teeth her words did break, That they might passage get; But she so handled still the matter, They came as good as ours, or better, And are not spent a whit.
Seite 33 - For, had he left the women to 't, It would have cost two hours to do 't, Which were too much that night. At length the candle's out; and now All that they had not done they do: What that is, who can tell? But I believe it was no more Than thou and I have done before With Bridget and with Nell.
Seite 30 - Cross, hard by the way, Where we, thou know'st, do sell our hay, There is a house with stairs ; And there did I see coming down Such folk as are not in our town, Forty at least, in pairs.
Seite 69 - ... awake me. Thus absence dies, and dying proves No absence can subsist with loves That do partake of fair perfection; Since in the darkest night they may, By Love's quick motion, find a way To see each other by reflection. The waving sea can with each flood Bathe some high promont, that...
Seite 12 - tis the Appetite Makes Eating a Delight, And if I like one Dish More than another, that a Pheasant is ; What in our Watches, that in us is found ; So to the Height and Nick We up be wound, No matter by what Hand or Trick. Ill O, for some honest Lover's Ghost, Some kind, unbodied Post Sent from the Shades below ! I strangely long to know, Whether the nobler chaplets wear Those that their Mistress' scorn did bear, Or those that were used kindly.
Seite 30 - Yet by his leave, for all his haste, He did not so much wish all past, Perchance, as did the maid.

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