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,

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…

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…

Love’s of itself too sweet; the be… Is, when love’s honey has a dash o…

Welcome, maids of honour, You do bring In the Spring; And wait upon her. She has virgins many,

You see this grntle stream that gl… Shoved on, by quick-succeeding tid… Try if this sober stream you can Follow to th’ wider ocean, And see, if there it keeps unspent

No fault in women, to refuse The offer which they most would ch… —No fault: in women, to confess How tedious they are in their dres… —No fault in women, to lay on

Droop, droop no more, or hang the… Ye roses almost withered; Now strength, and newer purple get… Each here declining violet. O primroses! let this day be

Since shed or cottage I have none… I sing the more, that thou hast on… To whose glad threshold, and free… I may a Poet come, though poor; And eat with thee a savoury bit,

First, April, she with mellow sho… Opens the way for early flowers; Then after her comes smiling May, In a more rich and sweet array; Next enters June, and brings us m…

My Muse in meads has spent her ma… Sitting, and sorting several sorts… To make for others garlands; and t… On many a head here, many a corone… But amongst all encircled here, no…

For brave comportment, wit without… Words fully flowing, yet of influe… Thou art that man of men, the man… Worthy the public admiration: Who with thine own eyes read’st wh…

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