John Byrom ( 10 of 36 )
Foes, friends, men, women, now are nought to me
But dreams of what has been, no more to be.
Foes, friends, men, women, now are nought to me
But dreams of what has been, no more to be.
But who would scorn the month of June,
Because December with his breath so hoary,
Must come? read more
But who would scorn the month of June,
Because December with his breath so hoary,
Must come? Much rather should he court the ray,
To hoard up warmth against a wintry day.
For no one cares for matrimonial cooings,
There's nothing wrong in a connubial kiss.
For no one cares for matrimonial cooings,
There's nothing wrong in a connubial kiss.
But sighs subside, and tears (even widows') shrink,
Like Arno in the summer, to a shallow.
But sighs subside, and tears (even widows') shrink,
Like Arno in the summer, to a shallow.
Despair of all recovery spoils longevity,
And makes men's miseries of alarming brevity.
Despair of all recovery spoils longevity,
And makes men's miseries of alarming brevity.
How sweet the task to shield an absent friend!
I ask but this of mine to--not defend.
How sweet the task to shield an absent friend!
I ask but this of mine to--not defend.
And all may think which way their judgments lead 'em.
And all may think which way their judgments lead 'em.
A tigress, robb'd of young, a lioness,
Or other interesting beast of prey,
Are similes at hand read more
A tigress, robb'd of young, a lioness,
Or other interesting beast of prey,
Are similes at hand for the distress
Of ladies who cannot have their own way.
A sword laid by,
Which eats into itself, and rusts ingloriously.
A sword laid by,
Which eats into itself, and rusts ingloriously.
If that you have a former friend for foe.
If that you have a former friend for foe.
