The lark that shuns on lofty boughs to build, Her humble nest, lies silent in the field. – Edmund Waller
Poets lose half the praise they should have got, Could it be known what they discreetly blot. – Edmund Waller
Leaving the old, both worlds at once they view, That stand upon the threshold of the new. – Edmund Waller
Tea does our fancy aid, Repress those vapours which the head invade, And keeps that palace of the soul serene. – Edmund Waller
His love at once and dread instruct our thought; As man He suffer’d and as God He taught. – Edmund Waller
So must the writer, whose productions should Take with the vulgar, be of vulgar mould. – Edmund Waller
And as pale sickness does invade, Your frailer part, the breaches made, In that fair lodging still more clear, Make the bright guest, your soul, appear. – Edmund Waller
The seas are quiet when the winds give o’er; So calm are we when passions are no more! – Edmund Waller
Go, lovely rose! Tell her that wastes her time and me That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. – Edmund Waller
A narrow compass! and yet there Dwelt all that ‘s good, and all that ‘s fair; Give me but what this riband bound, Take all the rest the sun goes round. – Edmund Waller
