Clear are her eyes, Like purest skies; Discovering from thence A baby there That turns each sphere,

Tears, though they’re here below t… Above, they are the Angels’ spice…

Thou bidst me come away, And I’ll no longer stay, Than for to shed some tears For faults of former years; And to repent some crimes

MONTANO, SILVIO, AND… MON. Bad are the times. SIL.… MON. Troth, bad are both; worse… The feast of shepherds fail. SI… Of wassail now, or sets the quinte…

Still to our gains our chief respe… Reward it is that makes us good or…

Born I was to be old, And for to die here; After that, in the mould Long for to lie here. But before that day comes,

I ask’d thee oft what poets thou h… And lik’st the best? Still thou… —I shall, ere long, with green tur… Then sure thou’lt like, or thou wi…

For all our works a recompence is… ’Tis sweet to think on what was ha…

Open thy gates To him who weeping waits, And might come in, But that held back by sin. Let mercy be

Let’s call for Hymen if agreed th… Delays in love but crucify the hea… Love’s thorny tapers yet neglected… Speak thou the word, they’ll kindl… The nimble hours woo us on to wed,

Here a little child I stand Heaving up my either hand; Cold as paddocks though they be, Here I lift them up to Thee, For a benison to fall

Rare is the voice itself: but whe… To th’ lute or viol, then ’tis rav…

Ah, my Perilla! dost thou grieve… Me, day by day, to steal away from… Age calls me hence, and my gray ha… And haste away to mine eternal hom… ‘Twill not be long, Perilla, afte…

My dearest Love, since thou wilt… And leave me here behind thee; For love or pity, let me know The place where I may find thee. AMARIL. In country meadows, pe…

Every time seems short to be That’s measured by felicity; But one half-hour that’s made up h… With grief, seems longer than a ye…