Sweet honey-sucking bees, why do y… surfeit on roses, pinks and violet… as if the choicest nectar lay in t… wherewith you store your curious c… Ah, make your flight to Melisuavi…

All pleasure is of this condition, It pricks men forward to fruition, But if enjoy’d, then like the humm… The honey being shed, away doth fl… But leaves a sting, that wounds th…

Ye that do live in pleasures plent… and dwell in Music’s sweetest Air… whose eyes are quick, whose ears a… not clogg’d with earth or worldly… come sing this song, made in Amphi…

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…

Alas what hope of speeding Where hope beguiled lies bleeding? She bade come when she spied me, And when I came she flied me. Thus when I was beguiled,

I always beg, yet never am relieve… I grieve, because my griefs are no… I cry aloud in vain, my voice outs… And get but this, mine echo calls…

Flora gave me fairest flowers, None so fair in Flora’s treasure: These I plac’d on Phillis’ bowers… She was pleas’d, and she my pleasu… Smiling meadows seem to say,

I fall, I fall, O stay me, Dear love, with joys you slay me, Of life your lips deprive me, Sweet, let your lips revive me, O whither are you hasting,

Ah! cruel Amarillis, since thou t… To hear the accents of a doleful d… To triumph still without remorse o… I loathe this life, death must my… And lest vain hope my miseries ren…

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…

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…

Ye restless thoughts, that harbour… Cease your assaults and let my hea… And let my tongue have leave to te… That she may pity, though not gran… Pity would help, alas, what love h…

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…

Ay me; can every rumour Thus start my lady’s humour? Name ye some gallant to her Why straight forsooth I woo her. Then burst she forth in passion:

And though my love abounding, Did make me fall a sounding, Yet am I well contented, Still so to be tormented, And death can never fear me,