Adieu, adieu sweet amaryllis. For since to part your will is. O heavy tiding Here is for me no biding.

As matchless beauty thee a Phoeni… Fair Leonilla, so thy sour-sweet… For when young Acon’s eye thy pro… Thou diest in him, and livest in m…

Fly not so swift, my dear, behold… If not a smiling glance for all my… Yet kill me with thy frowns. The Satyrs o’er the lawns full ni… Frisk it apace to view thy beauty’…

There is a jewel, which no Indian… Can buy, no chymic art can counter… It makes men rich in greatest pove… Makes water wine; turns wooden cup… The homely whistle, to sweet music…

Stay, Corydon, thou swain, Talk not so soon of dying: What though thy heart be slain, What though thy love be flying? She threatens thee, but dares not…

I sung sometimes my thoughts’€™ an… Where then I list, or time serv’€… While Daphne did invite me To supper once, and drank to me to… I smil’€™d, yet still did doubt he…

Weep, O mine eyes and cease not, Out alas, these your spring tides… O when begin you to swell so high that I may drown…

I love, alas! yet am not loved, For cruel she to pity is not moved… My constant love with scorn she il… Only my sighs a little she regarde… Yet more and more the quenchless f…

When shall my wretched life give p… That my sad cares may be enforc’€™… Come, saddest shadow, stop my vita… For I am thine, then let not care… Of thy sad thrall but, with thy fa…

Despiteful thus unto myself, I la… And in disdain, myself from joy I… These secret thoughts enwrap me so… That life, I hope. will soon from… And to some rest will quickly be c…

There, where I saw her lovely bea… Where, Venus-like, my sacred godd… There, with *precellent object min… That fair, but fatal star, my dole… As soon as morning in her light ap…

Die, hapless man, since she denies… Die, and despair, sith she doth sc… Farewell, most fair, tho’ thou dos… Sith for my duteous love thou dost… Those smiling eyes, that sometimes…

Lady, your words do spite me, Yet your sweet lips, so soft, kiss… Your deeds my heart surcharg’d wit… Your taunts my life destroying. Since both have force to spill me,

A silly sylvan, kissing heav’n-bor… Scorched his lips for his so fond… I, not so fond, but gaz’d whilst s… And all my heart straight into fla… The sylvan justly suffer’d for his…

Love not me for comely grace, For my pleasing eye or face; Nor for any outward part, No, nor for my constant heart: For those may fail or turn to ill,