At this glad Triumph, when most P… Their quill, I did not bridle up… For sloth or less devotion. I am… That can well keep my Holy-dayes… That can the blessings of my King…

How long vain Hope do’st thou my… Say! must my expectation know no e… Thou wast more kind unto the wandr… Who did ten years his Wife and Co… Ten lazy Winters in my glass are…

Ill busi’d man! why should’st thou… To lengthen out thy life’s short c… When ev’ry spectacle thou lookst u… Presents and acts thy execution. Each drooping season and each flow…

Fond Lunatick forbear, why do’st… For thy affections pay e’re it is… Loves fruits are legal use; and th… Be onely taken on the marriage day… Who for this interest too early ca…

VVhether thy Fathers, or diseases… More mortal prov’d to thy unhappy… Our sorrow needs not question; sin… Is known for length and sharpness… Thy Feaver yet was kind; which th…

Il sabio mude conseio: Il loco pe… We lov’d as friends now twenty yea… Is’t time or reason think you to g… When though two prentiships set J… I have not held my Rachel dear at…

Life is a crooked Labyrinth, and… Are daily lost in that Obliquity. ’Tis a perplexed circle, in whose… Nothing but sorrows and new sins a… How is the faint impression of eac…

Pursue no more (my thoughts!) that… You may assoon imprison the North… Or catch the Lightning as it leap… The leading billow first ran down… Or undertake the flying clouds to…

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…

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…

This Pile thou seest built out of… Contains no shroud within, nor mou… This bloodless Trunk is destitute… Which may the Soul-fled Mansion e… This seeming Sepulchre (to tell t…

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…

Splendidis longum valedico nugis. Farewell fond Love, under whose c… I have serv’d out a weary Prentis… Thou that hast made me thy scorn’d… To dote on Rocks, but yielding Lo…

Black Maid, complain not that I f… When Fate commands Antipathy: Prodigious might that union prove, Where Night and Day together move… And the conjunction of our lips

To have liv’d eminent in a degreee Beyond our lofty’st flights, that… Or t’have had too much merit is no… For such excesses find no Epitaph… At common graves we have Poetick…