In things a moderation keep; Kings ought to shear, not skin, their sheep.
Wealth cannot make a life, but Love.
I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers: Of April, May, or June, and July flowers. I sing of Maypoles, Hock-carts, wassails, wakes, Of bridegrooms, brides, and of the bridal cakes.
Thou art my life, my love, my heart, The very eyes of me: And hast command of every part To live and die for thee.
Art quickens nature; care will make a face; Neglected beauty perisheth apace.
The first act's doubtful, but we say, it is the last commends the play.
Show me thy feet, show me thy legs, thy thighs Show me those fleshy principalities; Show me that hill where smiling love doth sit, Having a living fountain under it; Show me thy waist, then let me there withal, By the ascension of thy lawn, see all.
The person lives twice who lives the first life well
When words we want, love teacheth to indite; And what we blush to speak, she bids us write.
Tis not the food, but the content, That makes the table's merriment.
Who covets more is evermore a slave.
A sweet disorder in the dress Kindles in clothes a wantonness A lawn about the shoulders thrown Into a fine distraction.
That age is best which is the first When youth and blood are warmer.
Bid me to live, and I will liveThy Protestant to be,Or bid me love, and I will giveA loving heart to thee.
Some asked me where the rubies grew, And nothing I did say; But with my finger pointed to The lips of Julia.
Give me a kiss, and to that kiss a score: Then to that twenty, add a hundred more.
What is a kiss? Why this, as some approve: the sure, sweet cement, glue, and lime of love.
Buying, possessing, accumulating--this is not worldliness. But doing this in the love of it, with no love of God paramount--doing it so that thoughts of eternity and God are an intrusion--doing it so that one's spirit is secularized in the process; this is worldliness.
In vain our labours are, whatsoe'er they be, unless God gives the Benediction.
But here's the sunset of a tedious day, These two asleep are; I'll but be undrest, And so to bed. Pray wish us all good rest.
I do love I know not what; Sometimes this, and sometimes that.
Tis hard to find God, but to comprehend Him, as He is, is labour without end.
Well I sup and well I dine, When I drink my frolic wine.
Learn this of me, where'er thy lot doth fall, Short lot, or not, to be content with all.
Love is maintain'd by wealth: when all is spent, Adversity then breeds the discontent.
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