Those ends in war the best content… Whose peace is made up with a pard…

Give me a cell To dwell, Where no foot hath A path; There will I spend,

TO THE HONOURED MR E… THE BED-CHAMBER TO HIS… Sweet country life, to such unknow… Whose lives are others’, not their… But serving courts and cities, be

I sing of brooks, of blossoms, bir… Of April, May, of June, and July… I sing of May—poles, hock—carts,… Of bridegrooms, brides, and of the… I write of youth, of love, and hav…

What needs complaints, When she a place Has with the race Of saints? In endless mirth,

How rich and pleasing thou, my Ju… In each thy dainty and peculiar pa… First, for thy Queen-ship on thy… Of flowers a sweet commingled coro… About thy neck a carkanet is bound…

About the sweet bag of a bee Two Cupids fell at odds; And whose the pretty prize should… They vow’d to ask the Gods. Which Venus hearing, thither came…

How Love came in, I do not know, Whether by th’ eye, or eare, or no… Or whether with the soule it came (At first) infused with the same: Whether in part ‘tis here or there…

Wrinkles no more are, or no less, Than beauty turn’d to sourness.

Ah, my Perilla! dost thou grieve… Me, day by day, to steal away from… Age calls me hence, and my gray ha… And haste away to mine eternal hom… ‘Twill not be long, Perilla, afte…

When all birds else do of their mu… Money’s the still-sweet-singing ni…

Born I was to be old, And for to die here; After that, in the mould Long for to lie here. But before that day comes,

In numbers, and but these few, I sing thy birth, oh JESU! Thou pretty Baby, born here, With sup’rabundant scorn here; Who for thy princely port here,

Beauty no other thing is, than a b… Flash’d out between the middle and…

Who with a little cannot be conten… Endures an everlasting punishment.