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George Wither's Poetry, by title

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  • Amarillis I did woo,
    And I courted Phillis too;
    9 lines
  •   So now is come our joyful'st feast,
        Let every man be jolly.
    106 lines
  • Two pretty rills do meet, and meeting make
    Within one valley a large silver lake:
    71 lines
  • Sweet baby, sleep! what ails my dear,
      What ails my darling thus to cry?
    82 lines
  • Now gentle sleep hath clos'd up those eyes
    Which waking kept my boldest thoughts in awe,
    13 lines
  • How near me came the hand of Death,
    When at my side he struck my dear,
    24 lines
  • The voice which I did more esteem
    Than music in her sweetest key,
    16 lines
  • Lord, living, here are we
    As fast united, yet
    40 lines
  • Did I not know a great man's power and might
    In spite of innocence can smother right,
    13 lines
  • Her true beauty leaves behind
    Apprehensions in my mind
    25 lines
  • I loved a lass, a fair one,
    As fair as e'er was seen;
    48 lines
  • Can I think the Guide of Heaven
    Hath so beautifully given
    18 lines
  • Lord! when those glorious lights I see
        With which thou hast adorned the skies,
    34 lines
  • (From _The Shepherd's Hunting_)
    Seest thou not, in clearest days,
    123 lines
  • Come, oh! come, with sacred lays,
    Let us sound th' Almighty's praise;
    50 lines
  •                         Ah me!
               
    88 lines
  • Lordly gallants! tell me this
      (Though my safe content you weigh not),
    160 lines
  • Shall I, wasting in despair,
    Die, because a woman's fair?
    43 lines
  • I wandered out a while agone,
    And went I know not whither;
    30 lines
  • Now gentle sleep hath closèd up those eyes,
      Which waking kept my boldest thoughts in awe,
    13 lines
  • Methought his royal person did foretell
    A kingly stateliness, from all pride clear;
    13 lines
  • Me so oft my fancy drew
    Here and there, that I ne'er knew
    88 lines
  • False world, thy malice I espie
    With what thou hast designed;
    162 lines
  • The Lord is King, and weareth
    A robe of glory bright:
    16 lines
  • Shall I, wasting in despaire,
    Dye because a woman's faire?
    40 lines
  • If she love me, this believe,
    I will die ere she shall grieve;
    40 lines, 1 comment
  • When with a serious musing I behold
    The grateful and obsequious marigold,
    30 lines
  • She doth tell me where to borrow
    Comfort in the midst of sorrow:
    56 lines
  • Hence away, thou Syren, leave me!
    Pish! unclaspe these wanton armes;
    71 lines
  • Thus fears the man whom virtue, beacon-like,
    Hath fix'd upon the hills of eminence;
    20 lines
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