William Strode

(1602 - 1644 / England)

William Strode Poems

1. A Riddle: On A Kiss 1/1/2004
2. A Translation Of The Nightingale Out Of Strada 1/1/2004
3. In Commendation Of Musick 1/1/2004
4. Chloris In The Snow 1/4/2003
5. On The Picture Of Two Dolphins In A Fountayne 1/1/2004
6. A Song On The Baths 1/1/2004
7. A Necklace 1/1/2004
8. A Paralell Between Bowling And Preferment 1/1/2004
9. A Lover To His Mistress 1/1/2004
10. An Epitaph On Mr. Fishborne The Great London Benefactor, And His Executor 1/1/2004
11. For A Gentleman, Who, Kissinge His Friend At His Departure Left A Signe Of Blood On Her 1/1/2004
12. A New Year's Gift 1/1/2004
13. Keepe On Your Maske And Hide Your Eye 1/1/2004
14. Consolatorium, Ad Parentes 1/1/2004
15. A Purse-String 1/1/2004
16. An Epitaph On Sr John Walter, Lord Cheife Baron 1/1/2004
17. A Watch Sent Home To Mrs. Eliz: King, Wrapt In Theis Verses 1/1/2004
18. Epitaph On Mr. Bridgeman 1/1/2004
19. A Watch-String 1/1/2004
20. An Eare-Stringe 1/1/2004
21. An Antheme 1/1/2004
22. On The Life Of Man 1/1/2004
23. A Girdle 1/1/2004
24. A Superscription On Sir Philip Sidney's Arcadia, Sent For A Token 1/1/2004
25. Anthem For Good Fryday 1/1/2004
26. A Song On A Sigh 1/1/2004
27. To His Sister 1/1/2004
28. A Strange Gentlewoman Passing By His Window 1/1/2004
29. Her Epitaph 1/1/2004
30. Opposite To Meloncholly 1/1/2004
31. On Sir Thomas Savill Dying Of The Small Pox 1/1/2004
32. On Gray Eyes 1/1/2004
33. When Orpheus Sweetly Did Complayne 1/1/2004
34. On The Death Of Dr. Lancton President Of Maudlin College 1/1/2004
35. On Chloris Standing By The Fire 1/1/2004
36. To The Right Honourable The Lady Penelope Dowager Of The Late Vis-Count Bayning 1/1/2004
37. Posies Bracelets 1/1/2004
38. To His Mistresse 1/1/2004
39. On Westwell Downes 1/1/2004
40. On The Death Of Sir Thomas Lea 1/1/2004
Best Poem of William Strode

A Riddle: On A Kiss

What thing is that, nor felt nor seene
Till it bee given? a present for a Queene:
A fine conceite to give and take the like:
The giver yet is farther for to seeke;
The taker doth possesse nothing the more,
The giver hee hath nothing lesse in store:
And given once that nature hath it still,
You cannot keepe or leave it if you will:
The workmanshippe is counted very small,
The labour is esteemed naught at all:
But to conclude, this gift is such indeede,
That, if some see't 'twill make theyr hearts to bleede

Read the full of A Riddle: On A Kiss

A Song On The Baths

What Angel stirrs this happy Well,
Some Muse from thence come shew't me,
One of those naked Graces tell
That Angels are for beauty:
The Lame themselves that enter here
Come Angels out againe,
And Bodies turne to Soules all cleere,
All made for joy, noe payne.

[Hata Bildir]