Thomas Lodge

(1558-1625 / England)

Quotations

  • ''I would in rich and golden coloured raine,
    With tempting showers in pleasant sort discend,''
    Thomas Lodge (1558?-1625), British poet. Phyllis (Sect. 2, l. 1-2). . . Anchor Anthology of Sixteenth-Century Verse, The. Richard S. Sylvester, ed. (1974) Doubleday Anchor Books.
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  • ''Into faire Phillis lappe (my lovely friend)
    When sleepe hir sence with slomber doth restraine.
    I would be chaunged to a milk-white Bull,
    When midst the gladsome fieldes she should appeare,''
    Thomas Lodge (1558?-1625), British poet. Phyllis (Sect. 2, l. 3-6). . . Anchor Anthology of Sixteenth-Century Verse, The. Richard S. Sylvester, ed. (1974) Doubleday Anchor Books.
  • ''My Phillis hath prime-feathered flowers
    That smile when she treads on them;
    And Phillis hath a gallant flock
    That leaps since she doth own them.
    But Phillis hath so hard a heart—''
    Thomas Lodge (1558?-1625), British poet. Phyllis (Sect. 1, l. 5-9). AAS. Oxford Book of English Verse, The, 1250-1918. Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. (New ed., rev. and enl., 1939) Oxford University Press.
  • ''I were content to wearie out my paine,
    To bee Narsissus so she were a spring
    To drowne in hir those woes my heart do wring:
    And more I wish transformed to remaine:
    That whilest I thus in pleasures lappe did lye,
    I might refresh desire, which else would die.''
    Thomas Lodge (1558?-1625), British poet. Phyllis (Sect. 2, l. 9-14). AAS. Anchor Anthology of Sixteenth-Century Verse, The. Richard S. Sylvester, ed. (1974) Doubleday Anchor Books.
  • ''As yields no mercy to desert,
    Nor grace to those that crave it.
    Sweet sun, when thou lookest on,
    Pray her regard my moan;
    Sweet birds, when you sing to her,
    To yield some pity, woo her;''
    Thomas Lodge (1558?-1625), British poet. Phyllis (Sect. 1, l. 11-16). . . Oxford Book of English Verse, The, 1250-1918. Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. (New ed., rev. and enl., 1939) Oxford University Press.
  • ''Nature herself her shape admires;
    The gods are wounded in her sight;
    And Love forsakes his heavenly fires
    And at her eyes his brand doth light:
    Heigh ho, would she were mine!''
    Thomas Lodge (1558?-1625), British poet. Rosalynde; or, Euphues' Golden Legacy (l. 36-40). . . Oxford Book of English Verse, The, 1250-1918. Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. (New ed., rev. and enl., 1939) Oxford University Press.
  • ''Since for a fair there's fairer none,
    Nor for her virtues so divine:
    Heigh ho, fair Rosaline!
    Heigh ho, my heart! would God that she were mine!''
    Thomas Lodge (1558?-1625), British poet. Rosalynde; or, Euphues' Golden Legacy (l. 43-46). . . Oxford Book of English Verse, The, 1250-1918. Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. (New ed., rev. and enl., 1939) Oxford University Press.

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Phillis II

Love guards the roses of thy lips
And flies about them like a bee;
If I approach he forward skips,
And if I kiss he stingeth me.

Love in thine eyes doth build his bower,
And sleeps within their pretty shine;
And if I look the boy will lower,
And from their orbs shoot shafts divine.

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