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,

Apoplexic, and Lethargie,
As forlorn hope, assault the enemy.

Apoplexic, and Lethargie,
As forlorn hope, assault the enemy.

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,

Made no more bones.

Made no more bones.

Squinting upon the lustre
Of the rich Rings which on his fingers glistre;
And, snuffing with a read more

Squinting upon the lustre
Of the rich Rings which on his fingers glistre;
And, snuffing with a wrythed nose the Amber,
The Musk and Civet that perfum'd the chamber.