Get up, get up for shame, the Blo… Upon her wings presents the god un… See how Aurora throwes her faire Fresh—quilted colours through the… Get up, sweet—Slug—a—bed, and see

If ye will with Mab find grace, Set each platter in his place; Rake the fire up, and get Water in, ere sun be set. Wash your pails and cleanse your d…

In the hour of my distress, When temptations me oppress, And when I my sins confess, Sweet Spirit, comfort me! When I lie within my bed,

From this bleeding hand of mine, Take this sprig of Eglantine: Which, though sweet unto your smel… Yet the fretful briar will tell, He who plucks the sweets, shall pr…

I have lost, and lately, these Many dainty mistresses: Stately Julia, prime of all; Sappho next, a principal; Smooth Anthea, for a skin

Why I tie about thy wrist, Julia, this silken twist; For what other reason ’tis But to show thee how, in part, Thou my pretty captive art?

Health is the first good lent to m… A gentle disposition then: Next, to be rich by no by-ways; Lastly, with friends t’ enjoy our…

In all thy need, be thou possest Still with a well prepared breast; Nor let the shackles make thee sad… Thou canst but have what others ha… And this for comfort thou must kno…

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…

Some ask’d me where the Rubies gr… And nothing I did say, But with my finger pointed to The lips of Julia. Some ask’d how Pearls did grow, a…

Laid out for dead, let thy last ki… With leaves and moss-work for to c… And while the wood-nymphs my cold… Sing thou my dirge, sweet-warbling… For epitaph, in foliage, next writ…

Thou art to all lost love the best… The only true plant found, Wherewith young men and maids dist… And left of love, are crown’d. When once the lover’s rose is dead

Though clock, To tell how night draws hence, I’… A cock I have to sing how day draws on: I have

Ah, Posthumus! our years hence f… And leave no sound: nor piety, Or prayers, or vow Can keep the wrinkle from the brow… But we must on,

Sea-born goddess, let me be By thy son thus graced, and thee, That whene’er I woo, I find Virgins coy, but not unkind. Let me, when I kiss a maid,