Brought forth in sorrow, and bred… Two tender Children here entombed… One Place, one Sire, one Womb th… They had one mortal sickness, and… And though they cannot number many…

Lady your art or wit could nere de… To shame me more then in this nigh… Why I am quite unready, and my ey… Now winking like my candle, doth d… To guide my hand, if it had ought…

Essex twice made unhappy by a Wif… Yet Marry’d worse unto the People… He who by two Divorces did untie His Bond of Wedlock and of Loyal… Who was by Easiness of Nature bre…

Should we our Sorrows in this Met… Oft as Misfortune doth their Subj… And to the sev’ral Losses which b… Pay diff’rent Rites at ev’ry Fune… Like narrow Springs drain’d by di…

Hearken O God unto a Wretches cr… Who low dejected at thy footstool… Let not the clamour of my heinous… Drown my requests, which strive to… At those bright gates, which alwai…

A prison is in all things like a g… Where we no better priviledges hav… Then dead men, nor so good. The s… Lives freer now, then when she was… In walls of flesh; and though she…

I see that wreath which doth the w… ‘Gainst the quick strokes of thund… To keep off deaths pale dart. For… Thou hadst been number’d still wit… Times sithe had fear’d thy Lawrel…

Out of the horrour of the lowest… Where cares & endlesse fears t… To thee (O Lord) I send my woful… O heare the accents of my misery. If Thy enquiry (Lord) should be s…

1 Accept, thou shrine of my de… 2 Instead of dirges, this comp… 3 And for sweet flow’rs to cro… 4 From thy griev’d friend, who… 5 Quite melted into tears for…

WE, that did nothing study but th… To love each other, with which tho… Rose with delight to us and with t… Must learn the hateful art, how to… We, that did nothing wish that He…

My best of friends! what needs a c… One by your merit bound a Votarie… Think you I have some plot upon m… I would this bondage change for a… Since ’twas my fate your prisoner…

Peace my hearts blab, be ever dumb… Sorrowes speak loud without a tong… And my perplexed thoughts forbear To breath your selves in any ear: Tis scarce a true or manly grief

Con mala Muger el remedio Mucha Tierra por el medio. I have oft wondred why thou didst… Thy Mistress of a stuff none coul… That wore his eyes in the right pl…

My Dearest, To let you or the wor… What Debt of service I do truly o… To your unpattern’d self, were to… A language onely form’d in the des… Of him that writes. It is the com…

Like a cold fatal sweat which ushe… My thoughts hang on me, & my l… Stopt up with sighs, my fancie big… Feels two twinn’d mountains strugg… Of boundless sorrow one, t’other o…