What shall I render to Thy name Or how Thy praises speak? My thanks how shall I testify? O Lord, Thou know’st I’m weak. I owe so much, so little can

Alas, dear Mother, fairest Queen… With honour, wealth, and peace hap… What ails thee hang thy head, and… And sit i’ the dust to sigh these… What deluge of new woes thus over—…

When feares and sorrowes me besett… Then did’st thou rid me out; When heart did faint and spirits q… Thou comforts me about. Thou rais’st him vp I feard to lo…

Most truly honoured, and as truly… If worth in me or ought I do appe… Who can of right better demand the… Than may your worthy self from who… The principal might yield a greate…

2. Sam. 1. 19. Alas slain is the… Illustrious Saul whose beauty did… Upon thy places mountainous and hi… How did the Mighty fall, and fall… In Gath let not this things be sp…

In anguish of my heart replete wit… And wasting pains, which best my b… In tossing slumbers on my wakeful… Bedrenched with tears that flowed… Till nature had exhausted all her…

My head, my heart, mine Eyes, my… My joy, my Magazine of earthly st… If two be one, as surely thou and… How stayest thou there, whilst I… So many steps, head from the heart…

My thankfull heart with glorying… Shall celebrate thy Name, Who hath restor’d, redeem’d, recur… From sicknes, death, and Pain. I cry’d thov seem’st to make some…

Dear Sir of late delighted with t… Of your four Sisters cloth’d in b… Of fairer Dames the Sun, ne’r saw… Though made a pedestal for Adams… Their worth so shines in these ric…

All Praise to him who hath now tu… My feares to Joyes, my sighes to… My Teares to smiles, my sad to gl… He’s come for whom I waited long. Thou di’st preserve him as he went…

To sing of Wars, of Captains, and… Of Cities founded, Common—wealths… For my mean Pen are too superior… Or how they all, or each their dat… Let Poets and Historians set thes…

And live I still to see Relations… And yet survive to sound this wail… Ah, woe is me, to write thy Funer… Who might in reason yet have lived… I saw the branches lopt the Tree…

Twice ten years old not fully told since nature gave me breath, My race is run, my thread spun, lo! here is fatal death. All men must die, and so must I;