William Strode

(1602 - 1644 / England)

William Strode Poems

1. Kisses 5/9/2011
2. On A Gentlewoman That Had Had The Small Poxe 5/9/2011
3. On A Dissembler 1/1/2004
4. On The Death Of Ladie Caesar 1/1/2004
5. On The Death Of Mrs. Mary Neudham 1/1/2004
6. Justification 1/1/2004
7. Jacke-On-Both-Sides 1/1/2004
8. To A Gentlewoman For A Friend 1/1/2004
9. Of Death & Resurrection 1/1/2004
10. On The Death Of Sir Tho: Peltham 1/1/2004
11. Upon The Blush Of A Faire Ladie 1/1/2004
12. With Penne, Inke, And Paper To A Distressed Friend 1/1/2004
13. On The Death Of A Twin 1/1/2004
14. On The Yong Baronett Portman Dying Of An Impostume In's Head 1/1/2004
15. On A Register For A Bible 1/1/2004
16. On His Lady Denys 1/1/2004
17. Keepe On Your Maske (Version For His Mistress) 1/1/2004
18. On His Lady Marie 1/1/2004
19. Love Compared To A Game Of Tables 1/1/2004
20. On The Death Of The Right Honourable The Lord Viscount Bayning 1/1/2004
21. On John Dawson, Butler Of C.C. 1/1/2004
22. On A Gentlewoman's Blistred Lipp 1/1/2004
23. On The Bible 1/1/2004
24. On A Watch Made By A Blacksmith 1/1/2004
25. On A Good Legg And Foot 5/9/2011
26. On Jealousy 1/1/2004
27. Melancholly 1/1/2004
28. On A Gentlewoman That Sung And Play'D Upon A Lute 1/1/2004
29. On A Gentlewoman's Watch That Wanted A Key 1/1/2004
30. On Fayrford Windowes 1/1/2004
31. On A Friends Absence 1/1/2004
32. Upon The Sherrifs Beere 1/1/2004
33. The Chimney-Sweeper's Song 1/1/2004
34. To A Valentine 1/1/2004
35. On A Great Hollow Tree 1/1/2004
36. On The Death Of Mistress Mary Prideaux 1/1/2004
37. On Chloris Walking In The Snow 1/1/2004
38. Remembrances Of The Renowned Knight, Sir Rowland Cotton, Of Bellaport In Shropshire, Concerning 1/1/2004
39. On The Death Of Mr. James Van Otton 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


I hold as fayth
What Rome's Church sayth
Where the King's head,
That flock's misled
Where th' Altar's drest
That People's blest
Who shuns the Masse
Hee's but an Asse
Who Charity preach

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