LORD, Thou art mine, and I am T… If mine I am; and Thine much more Then I or ought or can be mine. Yet to be Thine doth me restore, So that again I now am mine,

The harbingers are come. See, see… White is their colour, and behold… But must they have my brain? must… Those sparkling notions, which the… Must dulnesse turn me to a clod?

Immortal love, authour of this gre… Sprung from that beautie which can… How hath man parcel’€™d out thy gl… And thrown it on that dust which t… While mortall love doth all the ti…

O day most calm, most bright The fruit of this, the next world’… Th’endorsement of supreme delight, Writ by a friend, and with his blo… The couch of time; care’s balm and…

LOVE bade me welcome; yet my sou…    Guilty of dust and sin. But quick-eyed Love, observing me…    From my first entrance in, Drew nearer to me, sweetly questio…

Who says that fictions only and fa… Become a verse? Is there in truth… Is all good structure in a winding… May no lines pass, except they do… Not to a true, but painted chair?

Teach me, my God and King, In all things Thee to see, And what I do in anything To do it as for Thee. Not rudely, as a beast,

Not in rich furniture, or fine arr… Nor in a wedge of gold, Thou, who from me wast sold, To me dost now thy self convey; For so thou should’st without me s…

How should I praise thee, Lord! h… Gladly engrave thy love in steel, If what my soul doth feel sometime… My soul might ever feel! Although there were some forty hea…

Wounded I sing, tormented I indit… Thrown down I fall into a bed, an… Sorrow hath chang’d its note: such… Who changeth all things, as him pl… For well he knows, if but one grie…

Lord, Who createdst man in wealth… Though foolishly he lost the same, Decaying more and more, Till he became Most poore:

I Got me flowers to straw Thy way… I got me boughs off many a tree; But Thou wast up by break of day, And brought’st Thy sweets along w… The sunne arising in the East,

Who says that fictions only and fa… Become a verse? Is there no truth… Is all good structure in a winding… May no lines pass, except they do… Not to a true, but painted chair?

Philosophers have measur’d mountai… Fathom’d the depths of the seas, o… Walk’d with a staff to heav’n, and… But there are two vast, spacious t… The which to measure it doth more…

Prayer the Church’s banquet, ange… God’s breath in man returning to h… The soul in paraphrase, heart in p… The Christian plummet sounding he… Engine against th’Almighty, sinne…