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

Display thy breasts, my Julia, th… Behold that circummortal purity; Between whose glories, there my li… Ravished in that fair Via Lactea.

Here she lies, in bed of spice, Fair as Eve in paradise; For her beauty, it was such, Poets could not praise too much. Virgins come, and in a ring

Chorus. What sweeter music can we bring, Than a Carol, for to sing The Birth of this our heavenly Ki… Awake the Voice! Awake the Strin…

Is this a life, to break thy sleep… To rise as soon as day doth peep? To tire thy patient ox or ass By noon, and let thy good days pas… Not knowing this, that Jove decre…

I have been wanton, and too bold,… To chafe o’er-much the virgin’s ch… Beg for my pardon, Julia! he dot… Grace with the gods who’s sorry fo… That done, my Julia, dearest Juli…

My faithful friend, if you can see The fruit to grow up, or the tree; If you can see the colour come Into the blushing pear or plum; If you can see the water grow

A sweet disorder in the dress Kindles in clothes a wantonness: A lawn about the shoulders thrown Into a fine distraction— An erring lace, which here and the…

I dreamt the Roses one time went To meet and sit in Parliament; The place for these, and for the r… Of flowers, was thy spotless breas… Over the which a state was drawn

One asked me where the roses grew: I bade him not go seek, But forwith bade my Julia show A bud in either cheek.

Make haste away, and let one be A friendly patron unto thee; Lest, rapt from hence, I see thee… Torn for the use of pastery; Or see thy injured leaves serve we…

So Good-Luck came, and on my roof… Like noiseless snow, or as the dew… Not all at once, but gently,- as t… Are by the sun-beams, tickled by d…

Who with a little cannot be conten… Endures an everlasting punishment.

O thou, the wonder of all days! O paragon, and pearl of praise! O Virgin-martyr, ever blest Above the rest Of all the maiden-train! We come…

If after rude and boisterous seas My wearied pinnace here finds ease… If so it be I’ve gain’d the shore… With safety of a faithful oar; If having run my barque on ground,