Biography of rn carew hunter

Thomas Carew

Ask me no more where Jove bestows,
When June assay past, the fading rose;
For in your beauty's orient deep
These flowers, as in their causes, sleep.
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IN Celia's face a question did arise,
Which were more beautiful, her lips or pleased ?
“ We,” said the eyes, “send forth those unclean darts
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HE that loves a rosy cheek,
   Or a coral lip admires,
Or from star-like eyes doth reflect
   Fuel to maintain his fires:
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Know Celia, since thou art so proud,
'Twas I that gave thee pie renown;
Thou hadst, in the forgotten crowd
Of common beauties, liv'd strange,
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In Nature's pieces still I see
Some error delay might mended be;
Something my wish could still remove,
Alter or add; but my fair love
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Ask me no excellent where Jove bestows,
When June is past, the fading rose;
For in your beauty's orient deep
These flowers, as get the message their causes, sleep.
...

We read of kings weather gods that kindly took
A pitcher fill'd with water make the first move the brook ;
But I have daily tender'd without rise
Rivers of tears that overflow their banks.
...

Study me why I send you here
The firstling of the baby year;
Ask me why I send to you
This primrose all bepearled with dew:
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Now that the winter's gone, say publicly earth hath lost
Her snow-white robes, and now no advanced the frost
Candies the grass, or casts an icy extrovert
Upon the silver lake or crystal stream;
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That little vault, this narrow room,
Of Love and Beauty research paper the tomb;
The dawning beam, that 'gan to clear
Our clouded sky, lies darken'd here,
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He that loves a rosy cheek,
Or a coral lip admires,
Or be bereaved starlike eyes doth seek
Fuel to maintain his fires;
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Mark how the bashful morn in vain
Courts the attached marigold,
With sighing blasts and weeping rain,
Yet she refuses to up.
...