Rosemary
3
From Certaine small works… by Samuel Daniel
chosen by Emerald
If beauty thus be clouded with a frowne,
That pittie shines no comfort to my blis,
And vapours of disdaine so overgrowne
That my lives light wholly in-darkned is.
Why should I more molest the world with cryes?
The ayre with sighes, the earth below with teares?
Sith I live hatefull to those ruthless eyes,
Vexing with untun’d moane her daintie eares.
If I have lov’d her dearer then my breath,
My breath that calls the heavens to witness it:
And still must hold her deare till after death.
And that all this moves not her thoughts a whit,
Yes sure she cannot but must thinke a part,
She doth me wrong, to grieve so true a heart.
From To The World by Ben Jonson
chosen by Tegan
False world, good-night,: since thou hast brought
That houre upon my morne of age,
Hence-forth I quit thee from my thought,
My part is ended on thy stage.
Doe not once hope, that thou cast tempt
A spirit so resolved to tread
Upon thy throate, and liue exempt
From all the nets that thou canst spread.