Kind are her answers, But her performance keeps no day; Breaks time, as dancers. From their own Music when they stray. — Thomas Campion Copy Share Image
A prudent pharmacist often vends something for your complaint. But wine merchant you do this invariably. — Thomas Campion Copy Share Image
Let now the chimneys blaze And cups o'erflow with wine; Let well-tuned words amaze With harmony divine… — Thomas Campion Copy Share Image
Fain would I wed a fair young man that night and day could please me, When my mind or body grieved that had the… — Thomas Campion Copy Share Image
Fortune, honour, beauty, youth, Are but blossoms dying; Wanton pleasures, doting love, Are but shadows flying. — Thomas Campion Copy Share Image
The man whose silent daysIn harmless joys are spent,Whom hopes cannot delude,Nor sorrow discontent:That man needs neither towersNor armour for defence,Nor secret vaults to… — Thomas Campion Copy Share Image
Let now the chimneys blaze And cups o’erflow with wine... The summer hath his joys, And winter his delights; Though love and all his… — Thomas Campion Copy Share Image
Yet I would not die a maid, because I had a mother, As I was by one brought forth, I would bring forth another. — Thomas Campion Copy Share Image
Lost is our freedom When we submit to women so: Why do we need 'em When, in their best, they work our woe? — Thomas Campion Copy Share Image
All our pride is but a jest. None are worst and none are best. Grief and hope and joy and fear Play their pageant… — Thomas Campion Copy Share Image
