Автор: GEORGE GASCOIGNE

Sing lullaby, as women doe, Wherewith they bring their babes to rest, And lullaby can I sing to, As womanly […]

The Partridge in the pretie Merlines foote, Who feeles hir force supprest with fearfulnesse, And findes that strength nor strife […]

To make a Lover knowne, by plaine Anatomie, You lovers all that list beware, loe here behold you me. Who […]

The hatefull man that heapeth in his mynde, Cruell revenge of wronges forepast and done, May not (with ease) ye […]

The cruell hate which boyles within thy burning brest, And seekes to shape a sharpe revenge, on them yt love […]

Divorce me nowe good death, from love and lingring life, That one hath bene my concubine, that other was my […]

The hap which Paris had, as due for his desert, Who favord Venus for hir face, & skornde Menervas art: […]

The introduction to the Psalme of De profundis. The Skies gan scowle, orecast with misty clowdes, When (as I rode […]

Thy byrth, thy beautie, nor thy brave attyre, (Disdaynfull Dame, which doest me double wrong) Thy hygh estate, which sets […]

Philomene. In sweet April, the messenger to May, When hoonie drops, do melt in golden showres, When euery byrde, records […]

togither with the cause thereof. When first I thee beheld in colours black and white, Thy face in forme wel […]

The Shed is great, and greater then the show, Which seemes to be, betweene the good and bad : For […]

I cannot wish thy griefe, although thou worke my wooe, Since I profess to be thy friend, I cannot be […]

You that have spent the silent night, In sleepe and quiet rest, And joye to see the cheerefull lyght That […]

Mine owne good Bat, before thou hoyse up saile, To make a furrowe in the foming seas, Content thy selfe […]