|
Ca' the yowes to the knowes
Call for the robin-redbreast and the wren
Calme was the day, and through the trembling ayre
Can it be the sun descending
Charm me asleep, and melt me so
Cherry-ripe, ripe, ripe, I cry
Christ, dost Thou live indeed? or are Thy bones
Cold in the earth—and the deep snow piled above thee
Come away, come away, death
Come, dear children, let us away
Come, Sleep, and with thy sweet deceiving
Come, Sleep; O Sleep! the certain knot of peace
Come, spur away
Come unto these yellow sands
Come, worthy Greek! Ulysses, come
Cometh the night. The wind falls low
Come down, O Christ, and help me! reach Thy hand
Come down, O maid, from yonder mountain height
Come into the garden, Maud
Come, let me kiss your wistful face
Come live with me and be my Love
Come thou, who are the wine and wit
Creep into thy narrow bed
Cupid and my Campaspe play'd
Cynthia, to thy power and thee
Cyriack, whose Grandsire on the Royal Bench
|
