John Suckling

"Why so pale and wan, fond lover Prithee, why so pale? Will, when looking well can't move her, Looking ill prevail? Prithee, why so pale? ... Quit, quit, for shame, this will not move: This cannot take her. If of herself she cannot love, Nothing can make her: The devil take her!"

"Our sins, like to our shadows, When our day is in its glory, scarce appear: Towards our evening how great and monstrous They are!"

"But, as when an authentic watch is shown, Each man winds up and rectifies his own; So in our very judgments."

"The Prince of Darkness is a gentleman: Mahu, Mahu is his name."

"A health to the nut-brown lass, With the hazel eyes: let it pass. ... As much to the lively grey; 'Tis as good i' th' night as day."

"Just so, i' th' nick! i' th' very nick of time!"

"High characters (cries one); and he would see Things that ne'er were, nor are, nor ne'er will be."

"She's pretty to walk with, And witty to talk with, And pleasant, too, to think on."

"Her face is like the Milky Way i' the sky, A meeting of gentle lights without a name."

"Love is the fart Of every heart; It pains a man when 'tis kept close, And others doth offend when 'tis let loose."

"'Tis now, since I sat down before That foolish fort, a heart, (Time strangely spent), a year and more, And still I did my part."

"I thought to undermine the heart By whispering in the ear."

"Sure Beauty's empires, like to greater states, Have certain periods set, and hidden fates."

"O! for some honest lover's ghost, Some kind unbodied post Sent from the shades below! I strangely long to know, Whether the nobler chaplets wear, Those that their mistress' scorn did bear, Or those that were us'd kindly."

"If I a fancy take To black and blue, That fancy doth it beauty make."

"Women enjoy'd (whate'er before th' have been) Are like romances read, or sights once seen: Fruition's dull, and spoils the play much more Than if one read or knew the plot before. 'Tis expectation makes a blessing dear; Heaven were not heaven, if we knew what it were."

"They who know all the wealth they have, are poor; He's only rich that cannot tell his store."

"The maid—and thereby hangs a tale; For such a maid no Whitson-ale Could ever yet produce: No grape, that’s kindly ripe, could be So round, so plump, so soft as she, Nor half so full of juice."

"Her feet beneath her petticoat, Like little mice, stole in and out, As if they fear'd the light: But O, she dances such a way! No sun upon an Easter-day Is half so fine a sight."

"Her cheeks so rare a white was on, No daisy makes comparison (Who sees them is undone); For streaks of red were mingled there, Such as are on a Catherine pear (The side that's next the sun)."

"Her lips were red; and one was thin, Compar'd to that was next her chin (Some bee had stung it newly)."

"Out upon it! I have lov'd Three whole days together; And am like to love three more, If it prove fair weather.Time shall moult away his wings, Ere he shall discover In the whole wide world again Such a constant lover."

"Had it any been but she, And that very face, There had been at least ere this A dozen dozen in her place."

"I prithee send me back my heart, Since I cannot have thine; For if from yours you will not part, Why then shouldst thou have mine?"

"But love is such a mystery, I cannot find it out; For when I think I'm best resolv'd, I then am most in doubt."

"She's a savour to the glass, An excuse to make it pass."