01c. 1625 ADHer feet beneath her petticoat Like little mice stole in and out, As if they feared the light; But oh, she dances such a way! No sun upon an Easter-day Is half so fine a sight.Sir John Suckling / quote ↗
02c. 1625 ADHer lips were red, and one was thin; Compared with that was next her chin,— Some bee had stung it newly.Sir John Suckling / quote ↗
03c. 1625 ADWhy so pale and wan, fond lover? Prithee, why so pale? Will, when looking well can't move her, Looking ill prevail? Prithee, why so pale?Sir John Suckling / quote ↗
04c. 1625 AD'T is expectation makes a blessing dear; Heaven were not heaven if we knew what it were.Sir John Suckling / quote ↗
05c. 1625 ADShe is pretty to walk with, And witty to talk with, And pleasant, too, to think on.Sir John Suckling / quote ↗
06c. 1625 ADHer face is like the milky way i' the sky,— A meeting of gentle lights without a name.Sir John Suckling / quote ↗
07c. 1625 ADBut as when an authentic watch is shown, Each man winds up and rectifies his own, So in our very judgments.Sir John Suckling / quote ↗
09c. 1625 AD"High characters," cries one, and he would see Things that ne'er were, nor are, nor e'er will be.Sir John Suckling / quote ↗
10c. 1625 ADThe maid (and thereby hangs a tale) For such a maid no Whitsun-ale Could ever yet produce: No grape, that’s kindly ripe, could be So round, so plump, so soft as she, Nor half so full of juice. Her feet beneath her petticoat Like little mice stole in and out, As if they fear’d the light: But O, she dances such a way! No sun upon an Easter-day Is half so fine a sight. Her cheeks so rare a white was on, No daisy makes comparison (Who sees them is undone); For streaks of red were mingled there, Such as are on a Catherine pear, The side that’s next the sun. Her lips were red, and one was thin Compar’d to that was next her chin, (Some bee had stung it newly), But, Dick, her eyes so guard her face I durst no more upon them gaze Than on the sun in July.Sir John Suckling / quote ↗
11c. 1625 ADInstruct me now what love will do; 'T will make a tongueless man to woo. Inform me next what love will do; 'T will strangely make a one of two. Teach me besides what love will do; 'T will quickly mar and make ye too. Tell me, now last, what love will do; 'T will hurt and heal a heart pierc'd through.Sir John Suckling / quote ↗
