Prodigious might that union prove, Where Night and Day together move, And the conjunction of our lips Not kisses make but an eclipse; In which the mixed black and white Portends more terrour than delight.
- Lived
- 1592–1669
- Born
- Worminghall
- Died
- Chichester
- Nationality
- United Kingdom
- Known as
- bishop, writer, Anglican priest
- Era
- Renaissance
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Works (3)
We that did nothing study but the way To love each other, with which thoughts the day Rose with delight to us, and with them set, Must learn the hateful art, how to forget.
But hark! My pulse, like a soft drum Beats my approach, tells thee I come; And, slow howe’er my marches be, I shall at last sit down by thee. The thought of this bids me go on, And wait my dissolution