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(1602 - 1644 / England)

Quotations

  • ''The wanton snow flew to her breast,
    Like pretty birds into their nest,
    But, overcome with whiteness there,
    For grief it thaw'd into a tear:
    Thence falling on her garments' hem,
    To deck her, froze into a gem.''
    William Strode (1602?-1645), British poet, clergyman. On Chloris Walking in the Snow (l. 5-10). . . 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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A Purse-String

We hugg, imprison, hang, and save,
This foe, this friend, our Lord, our slave.


While thus I hang, you threatned see
The fate of him that stealeth mee.

[Hata Bildir]