Let us, though late, at last, my… And loving lie in one devoted bed. Thy watch may stand, my minutes fl… No sound calls back the year that… Then, sweetest Silvia, let’s no l…

Why do ye weep, sweet babes? can… Speak grief in you, Who were but born just as the modest morn Teem’d her refreshing dew?

By those soft tods of wool, With which the air is full; By all those tinctures there That paint the hemisphere; By dews and drizzling rain,

Cupid as he lay among Roses, by a Bee was stung. Whereupon in anger flying To his Mother, said thus crying; Help! O help! your Boy’s a dying.

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

If little labour, little are our g… Man’s fortunes are according to hi…

Kindle the Christmas brand, and t… Till sunset let it burn; Which quench’d, then lay it up aga… Till Christmas next return. Part must be kept, wherewith to te…

Men say you’re fair; and fair ye a… But, hark! we praise the painter…

Reach with your whiter hands to me Some crystal of the spring; And I about the cup shall see Fresh lilies flourishing. Or else, sweet nymphs, do you but…

At draw-gloves we’ll play, And prithee let’s lay A wager, and let it be this: Who first to the sum Of twenty shall come,

Virgins promised when I died, That they would each primrose-tide Duly, morn and evening, come, And with flowers dress my tomb. —Having promised, pay your debts

Good things, that come of course,… Than those which come by sweet con…

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…

Give way, give way, ye gates, and… An easy blessing to your bin And basket, by our entering in. May both with manchet stand replet… Your larders, too, so hung with me…

Bacchus, let me drink no more! Wild are seas that want a shore! When our drinking has no stint, There is no one pleasure in’t. I have drank up for to please