Edmund Waller

There is a garden in her face Where roses and white lilies blow; A heavenly paradise is that place, Wherein all pleasant fruits do flow: There cherries grow which none may buy Till 'Cherry-ripe' themselves do cry.

The soul's dark cottage, battered and decayed, Lets in new light through chinks that Time has made; Stronger by weakness, wiser, men become As they draw near to their eternal home. Leaving the old, both worlds at once they view, That stand …

Poets lose half the praise they should have got, Could it be known what they discreetly blot.

The Muses' friend, Tea, does our fancy aid, Repress the vapours which the head invade, And keeps the palace of the soul serene.

Poets that lasting marble seek Must come in Latin or in Greek.

How small a part of time they share That are so wondrous sweet and fair!

Go, lovely rose! Tell her that wastes her time and me That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be.

My joy, my grief, my hope, my love, Did all within this circle move!

That which her slender waist confined Shall now my joyful temples bind; No monarch but would give his crown His arms might do what this has done.

To man, that was in th' evening made, Stars gave the first delight; Admiring, in the gloomy shade, Those little drops of light.

Guarded with ships, and all our sea our own.

Illustrious acts high raptures do infuse, And every conqueror creates a muse.

He that alone would wise and mighty be, Commands that others love as well as he. Love as he lov'd! — How can we soar so high?— He can add wings when he commands to fly. Nor should we be with this command dismay'd; He that examples gives …

Could we forbear dispute, and practice love, We should agree as angels do above. Where love presides, not vice alone does find No entrance there, hut virtues stay behind: Both faith, and hope, and all the meaner train Of mortal virtues, at …

In such green palaces the first kings reign'd, Slept in their shades, and angels entertain'd; With such old counsellors they did advise, And by frequenting sacred groves grew wise.

Under the tropic is our language spoke, And part of Flanders hath receiv'd our yoke.

For all we know Of what the blessed do above Is, that they sing, and that they love.

A narrow compass! and yet there Dwelt all that's good, and all that's fair; Give me but what this riband bound, Take all the rest the sun goes round.

That eagle's fate and mine are one, Which on the shaft that made him die Espied a feather of his own, Wherewith he wont to soar so high.

The yielding marble of her snowy breast.

Let us look to our Government, Fleet, and Trade.

We give public money, and must see that it goes to public use. Tell your money, fix it to public ends, and take order against occasions of this nature for the future.

'Tis strange that we have sat so many years, and given so much money, and are still called upon for Supply. The Lords may give Supply with their own money, but we give the peoples; we are their proxies.

The King governs by Law. Let us look back to the evils we had, in order to prevent more.