Phrase by 'John Cleveland'

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I am no Poet here; my pen's the spout where the rain water of my eyes run out.

Author: John Cleveland - English Poet
  I Am , Eyes , Water , Rain


Love melts the rigor which the rocks have bred; a flint will break upon a feather bed.

Author: John Cleveland - English Poet
  Love , Will , Bed , Rocks


Had Cain been Scot, God would have changed his doom nor forced him wander, but confine him home.

Author: John Cleveland - English Poet
  Home , God , Wander , Forced


My tears will keep no channel, know no laws to guide their streams, but like the waves, their cause, run with disturbance till they swallow me as a description of his misery.

Author: John Cleveland - English Poet
  Me , Know , Tears , Waves


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