Guillaume de Salluste Du Bartas

Did thrust (as now) in other's corn his sickle.
- Guillaume de Salluste Du Bartas,

Did thrust (as now) in other's corn his sickle.
- Guillaume de Salluste Du Bartas,

Flesh of thy flesh, nor yet bone of thy bone.

Flesh of thy flesh, nor yet bone of thy bone.

My lovely living Boy,
My hope, my hap, my Love, my life, my joy.
- Guillaume read more

My lovely living Boy,
My hope, my hap, my Love, my life, my joy.
- Guillaume de Salluste Du Bartas,

Or (almost) like a Spider, who, confin'd
In her Web's centre, shakt with every winde,
Moves in read more

Or (almost) like a Spider, who, confin'd
In her Web's centre, shakt with every winde,
Moves in an instant, if the buzzing Flie
Stir but a string of her Lawn Canopie.
- Guillaume de Salluste Du Bartas,

One doctor, singly like the sculler plies,
The patient struggles, and by inches dies;
But two physicians, read more

One doctor, singly like the sculler plies,
The patient struggles, and by inches dies;
But two physicians, like a pair of oars,
Waft him right swiftly to the Stygian shores.