William Strode

(1602 - 1644 / England)

William Strode Poems

1. A Girdle 1/1/2004
2. A Lover To His Mistress 1/1/2004
3. A Necklace 1/1/2004
4. A New Year's Gift 1/1/2004
5. A Paralell Between Bowling And Preferment 1/1/2004
6. A Purse-String 1/1/2004
7. A Riddle: On A Kiss 1/1/2004
8. A Song On A Sigh 1/1/2004
9. A Song On The Baths 1/1/2004
10. A Strange Gentlewoman Passing By His Window 1/1/2004
11. A Superscription On Sir Philip Sidney's Arcadia, Sent For A Token 1/1/2004
12. A Translation Of The Nightingale Out Of Strada 1/1/2004
13. A Watch Sent Home To Mrs. Eliz: King, Wrapt In Theis Verses 1/1/2004
14. A Watch-String 1/1/2004
15. An Antheme 1/1/2004
16. An Eare-Stringe 1/1/2004
17. An Epitaph On Mr. Fishborne The Great London Benefactor, And His Executor 1/1/2004
18. An Epitaph On Sr John Walter, Lord Cheife Baron 1/1/2004
19. Anthem For Good Fryday 1/1/2004
20. Chloris In The Snow 1/4/2003
21. Consolatorium, Ad Parentes 1/1/2004
22. Epitaph On Mr. Bridgeman 1/1/2004
23. For A Gentleman, Who, Kissinge His Friend At His Departure Left A Signe Of Blood On Her 1/1/2004
24. Her Epitaph 1/1/2004
25. In Commendation Of Musick 1/1/2004
26. Jacke-On-Both-Sides 1/1/2004
27. Justification 1/1/2004
28. Keepe On Your Maske (Version For His Mistress) 1/1/2004
29. Keepe On Your Maske And Hide Your Eye 1/1/2004
30. Kisses 5/9/2011
31. Love Compared To A Game Of Tables 1/1/2004
32. Melancholly 1/1/2004
33. Of Death & Resurrection 1/1/2004
34. On A Dissembler 1/1/2004
35. On A Friends Absence 1/1/2004
36. On A Gentlewoman That Had Had The Small Poxe 5/9/2011
37. On A Gentlewoman That Sung And Play'D Upon A Lute 1/1/2004
38. On A Gentlewoman's Blistred Lipp 1/1/2004
39. On A Gentlewoman's Watch That Wanted A Key 1/1/2004
40. On A Good Legg And Foot 5/9/2011
Best Poem of William Strode

A Riddle: On A Kiss

What thing is that, nor felt nor seene
Till it bee given? a present for a Queene:
A fine conceite to give and take the like:
The giver yet is farther for to seeke;
The taker doth possesse nothing the more,
The giver hee hath nothing lesse in store:
And given once that nature hath it still,
You cannot keepe or leave it if you will:
The workmanshippe is counted very small,
The labour is esteemed naught at all:
But to conclude, this gift is such indeede,
That, if some see't 'twill make theyr hearts to bleede

Read the full of A Riddle: On A Kiss


I hold as fayth
What Rome's Church sayth
Where the King's head,
That flock's misled
Where th' Altar's drest
That People's blest
Who shuns the Masse
Hee's but an Asse
Who Charity preach

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