I sing of brooks, of blossoms, bir… Of April, May, of June, and July… I sing of May—poles, hock—carts,… Of bridegrooms, brides, and of the… I write of youth, of love, and hav…

This day, my Julia, thou must mak… For Mistress Bride the wedding-ca… Knead but the dough, and it will b… To paste of almonds turn’d by thee… Or kiss it thou but once or twice,

Be the mistress of my choice, Clean in manners, clear in voice; Be she witty, more than wise, Pure enough, though not precise; Be she showing in her dress,

Can I not sin, but thou wilt be My private protonotary? Can I not woo thee to pass by A short and sweet iniquity? I’ll cast a mist and cloud upon

To the Right Honourable Mildmay,… Come, sons of summer, by whose toi… We are the lords of wine and oil; By whose tough labours, and rough… We rip up first, then reap our lan…

Here a solemn fast we keep, While all beauty lies asleep; Hush’d be all things, no noise her… But the toning of a tear; Or a sigh of such as bring

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…

Ah Ben! Say how, or when Shall we thy guests Meet at those lyric feasts Made at the Sun,

Though frankincense the deities re… We must not give all to the hallow… Such be our gifts, and such be our… As for ourselves to leave some fra…

HERE a pretty baby lies Sung asleep with lullabies: Pray be silent and not stir Th’ easy earth that covers her.

Stay while ye will, or go, And leave no scent behind ye: Yet trust me, I shall know The place where I may find ye. Within my Lucia’s cheek,

Why I tie about thy wrist, Julia, this my silken twist? For what other reason is’t, But to shew thee how in part Thou my pretty captive art?

The mellow touch of music most dot… The soul, when it doth rather sigh…

I would to God, that mine old age… Before my last, but here a living… Some one poor almshouse, there to… Ghost—like, as in my meaner sepulc… A little piggin, and a pipkin by,

One silent night of late, When every creature rested, Came one unto my gate, And knocking, me molested. Who’s that, said I, beats there,