How Love came in, I do not know, Whether by th’ eye, or eare, or no… Or whether with the soule it came (At first) infused with the same: Whether in part ‘tis here or there…

What will ye, my poor orphans, do, When I must leave the world and y… Who’ll give ye then a sheltering s… Or credit ye, when I am dead? Who’ll let ye by their fire sit,

Give me a man that is not dull, When all the world with rifts is f… But unamazed dares clearly sing, Whenas the roof’s a-tottering; And though it falls, continues sti…

Farewell thou thing, time past so… To me as blood to life and spirit;… Nay, thou more near than kindred,… Male to the female, soul to body;… To quick action, or the warm soft…

Life of my life, take not so soon… But stay the time till we have bad… Thou hast both wind and tide with… As soon dispatch’d is by the night… Let us not then so rudely hencefor…

Happily I had a sight Of my dearest dear last night; Make her this day smile on me, And I’ll roses give to thee!

Among the myrtles as I walk’d Love and my sighs thus intertalk’d… Tell me, said I, in deep distress… Where I may find my Shepherdess? —Thou fool, said Love, know’st th…

In sober mornings do thou not rehe… The holy incantation of a verse; But when that men have both well d… Let my enchantments then be sung,… When laurel spurts i’ th’ fire, an…

A crystal vial Cupid brought, Which had a juice in it: Of which who drank, he said, no th… Of Love he should admit. I, greedy of the prize, did drink,

A Gyges ring they bear about them… To be, and not seen when and where… They tread on clouds, and though t… They fall like dew, and make no no… So silently they one to th’ other…

Come, come away Or let me go; Must I here stay Because you’re slow, And will continue so;

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,

Man is a watch, wound up at first,… Wound up again; Once down, he’s d… The watch once down, all motions t… The man’s pulse stopt, all passion…

What needs complaints, When she a place Has with the race Of saints? In endless mirth,

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