My soule her wings doth spread And heaven-ward flies, Th' Almighty's Mysteries to read In the large volumes of the skies. — William Habington Copy Share Image
No distinction is 'tween man and man, But as his virtues add to him a glory Or vices cloud him. — William Habington Copy Share Image
My soule her wings doth spread And heaven-ward flies, Th' Almighty's Mysteries to read In the large volumes of the skies. — William Habington Copy Share Image
Time! where didst thou those years inter Which I have seene decease? — William Habington Copy Share Image
As yourselves your empires fall, and every kingdom hath a grave. — William Habington Copy Share Image
I hate the countrie's dirt and manners, yet I love the silence; I embrace the wit; A courtship, flowing here in full tide. But… — William Habington Copy Share Image
