Poetry, anyone?

[Johann]

by George Herbert

Discipline


Love is swift of foot;
Love's a man of warre,
And can shoot
And can hit from farre

Who can scape his bow?
That which wrought on Thee,
Brought Thee low,
Needs must work on me.

Throw away Thy rod:
Though man frailties hath,
Thou art God;
Throw away Thy wrath.

[Johann]

On Shakespear. 1630


Hath from the leaves of thy unvalu'd Book,
Those Delphick lines with deep impression took,
Then thou our fancy of it self bereaving,
Dost make us Marble with too much conceaving;
And so Sepulcher'd in such pomp dost lie,
That Kings for such a Tomb would wish to die.

[Johann]

I'm Not Down

I've been beat up, I've been thrown
Out but I'm not down, I'm not down
I've been shown up, but I've grown up
And I'm not down, I'm not down