TIS true the beauteous Starre To which I first did bow Burnt quicker, brighter far Then that which leads me now ; Which shines with more delight:

You, that can haply mixe your joye… And weave white Ios with black El… Can caroll out a dirge, and in one… Sing to the tune either of life, o… You, that can weepe the gladnesse…

Here, here, oh here! EURIDICE, Here was she slaine; Her soule 'still’d through a veine… The gods knew lesse That time divinitie,

Up with the jolly bird of light Who sounds his third retreat to ni… Faire Amarantha from her bed Ashamed starts, and rises red As the carnation-mantled morne,

AD M. T. CICERONEM. CATUL EP. 50. Disertissime Romuli nepotum, Quot sunt, quotque fuere, Marce T… Quotque post alios erunt in annos,

AD LESBIAM, CAT. EP. 73. Dicebas quondam, solum to nosse C… Lesbia, nec prae me velle tenere… Dilexi tum te, non tantum ut vulgu… Sed pater ut gnatos diligit et gen…

Behold! three sister-wonders, in w… Distinct and chast, the splendrous… Of Juno, Venus and the warlike M… Each in their three divinities arr… The majesty and state of Heav’ns…

UNHAPPY youth betrayd by Fate To such a Love hath Sainted Hate… And damned those Cælestiall bonds Are onely knit with equal hands ; The Love of Great Ones? 'Tis a…

I laugh and sing, but cannot tell Whether the folly on’t sounds well… But then I groan, Methinks, in tune; Whilst grief, despair and fear dan…

Now Whitehall’s in the grave, And our head is our slave, The bright pearl in his close shel… Now the miter is lost, The proud Praelates, too, crost,

AH me! the little Tyrant Theefe! As once my heart was playing, He snatcht it up and flew away, Laughing at all my praying. II

Lucasta, frown, and let me die, But smile, and see, I live; The sad indifference of your eye Both kills and doth reprieve. You hide our fate within its scree…

To My Noble Friend, Mr Charl… O thou that swing’st upon the wavi… Of some well-filled oaten beard, Drunk ev’ry night with a delicious… Dropped thee from heav’n, where no…

SING out pent Soules, sing cheer… Care Shackles you in Liberty, Mirth frees you in Captivity: Would you double fetters adde? Else why so sadde?

Amarantha sweet and faire, Ah brade no more that shining hair… As my curious hand or eye, Hovering round thee, let it flye. II.