John Lyly

Io, paeans let us sing, To physic's and to poesy's king

Cross-gartered swains, and dairy girls, With faces smug, and round as pearls, When Pan's shrill pipe begins to play, With dancing wear out night and day.

Pan's Syrinx was a girl indeed, Though now she's turned into a reed.

My Daphne's hair is twisted gold, Bright stars a-piece her eyes do hold, My Daphne's brow enthrones the graces, My Daphne's beauty stains all faces; On Daphne's cheek grow rose and cherry, On Daphne's lip a sweeter berry.

Is any cozened of a tear Which as a pearl disdain does wear? Here stands the thief; let her come Hither, and lay on him her doom.

Rocks, shelves, and sands and seas, farewell. Fie! Who would dwell In such a hell As is a ship, which drunk does reel, Taking salt healths from deck to keel?

As lyke as one pease is to another.

A clere conscience is a sure carde.

There can no great smoke arise, but there must be some fire.

Fish and guests in three days are stale.

A Rose is sweeter in the budde than full blowne.

For experience teacheth me that straight trees have crooked roots.

I am glad that my Adonis hath a sweete tooth in his head.

Fishe and gesse in three dayes are stale.

Your eyes are so sharpe that you cannot onely looke through a Milstone, but cleane through the minde.

Where the streame runneth smoothest, the water is deepest.

Maydens, be they never so foolyshe, yet beeing fayre they are commonly fortunate.

A comely olde man as busie as a bee.

Goe to bed with the Lambe, and rise with the Larke.

It is a world to see.

Is it not true which Seneca reporteth, that as too much bending breaketh the bowe, so too much remission spoyleth the minde?

Rather fast then surfette, rather starue then striue to exceede.

I mean not to run with the Hare and holde with the Hounde.

Lette me stande to the maine chance.