Thomas Otway. 1652-1685
419. The Enchantment
1 min to read 73 words
I DID but look and love awhile, 'Twas but for one half-hour; Then to resist I had no will, And now I have no power.
To sigh and wish is all my ease; Sighs which do heat impart Enough to melt the coldest ice, Yet cannot warm your heart.
O would your pity give my heart One corner of your breast, 'Twould learn of yours the winning art, And quickly steal the rest.
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John Oldham. 1653-1683
420. A Quiet Soul
1 min to read 70 words
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