Shall I, wasting in despair,Die because a woman's fair?Or make pale my cheeks with care,'Cause another's rosy are?Be she fairer than the day,Or the flowery meads in May,If she be not so to me,What care I how fair she be? — George Wither Copy Share Image
Shall I, wasting in despair,Die because a woman's fair?Or make pale my cheeks with care,'Cause another's rosy are?Be she fairer than the day,Or the… — George Wither Copy Share Image
Christmas Pie Lo! now is come our joyfull'st feast! Let every man be jolly; Each room with ivy leaves is dressed, And every post… — George Wither Copy Share Image
Lastly, the ashes left behind, May daily show to move the mind, That to ashes and dust return we must: Then think, and drink… — George Wither Copy Share Image
“Without the door let sorrow lie, And if for cold it hap to die, We'll bury 't in a Christmas pie, And evermore be… — George Wither Copy Share Image
I loved a lass, a fair one,As fair as e'er was seen;She was indeed a rare one,Another Sheba queen:But, fool as then I was,I… — George Wither Copy Share Image
Lustful Desire (although 'twere rather fit To some brute creature to attribute it) Shall be presented in the second place, Because it shrouds a… — George Wither Copy Share Image
