Weep no more, nor sigh, nor groan, Sorrow calls no time that 's gone; Violets plucked, the sweetest rain Makes not fresh nor grow again. — John Fletcher Copy Share Image
Joys as winged dreams fly fast, / Why should sadness longer last? / Grief is but a wound to woe; / Gentlest fair, mourn, mourn no moe. — John Fletcher Copy Share Image
Drink today, and drown all sorrow; you shall perhaps not do tomorrow. — John Fletcher Copy Share Image
Care-charming Sleep, thou easer of all woes, brother to Death, sweetly thyself dispose. — John Fletcher Copy Share Image
Hence, all you vain delights, As short as are the nights Wherein you spend your folly! There's naught in this life sweet But only… — John Fletcher Copy Share Image
Ask how to live? Write, write, write, anything; The world's a fine believing world, write news. — John Fletcher Copy Share Image
Then, everlasting Love , restrain thy will; 'Tis god -like to have power, but not to kill. — John Fletcher Copy Share Image
Corruption is a tree, whose branches are Of an immeasurable length: they spread Ev'rywhere; and the dew that drops from thence Hath infected some… — John Fletcher Copy Share Image
Drink to-day, and drown all sorrow; You shall perhaps not do 't to-morrow. — John Fletcher Copy Share Image
The greatest attribute of heaven is mercy; And 'tis the crown of justice, and the glory — John Fletcher Copy Share Image
