Dew sate on Julia’s hair, And spangled too, Like leaves that laden are With trembling dew; Or glitter’d to my sight,

When I consider, dearest, thou do… But here awhile, to languish and d… Like to these garden glories, whic… The flowery-sweet resemblances of… With grief of heart, methinks, I…

Charm me asleep, and melt me so With thy delicious numbers; That being ravish’d, hence I go Away in easy slumbers. Ease my sick head,

You have beheld a smiling rose When virgins’ hands have drawn O’er it a cobweb-lawn: And here, you see, this lily shows… Tomb’d in a crystal stone,

I will confess With cheerfulness, Love is a thing so likes me, That, let her lay On me all day,

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…

From noise of scare-fires rest ye… From murders, Benedicite; From all mischances that may frigh… Your pleasing slumbers in the nigh… Mercy secure ye all, and keep

Play, Phoebus, on thy lute, And we will sit all mute; By listening to thy lyre, That sets all ears on fire. Hark, hark! the God does play!

Great cities seldom rest; if there… T’ invade from far, they’ll find w…

TO PHILLIS, TO LOVE A… Live, live with me, and thou shalt… The pleasures I’ll prepare for th… What sweets the country can afford Shall bless thy bed, and bless thy…

Begin to charm, and as thou strok’… With thine enchantment, melt me in… Then let thy active hand scud o’er… And make my spirits frantic with t… That done, sink down into a silver…

Sapho, I will chuse to go Where the northern winds do blow Endless ice, and endless snow; Rather than I once would see But a winter’s face in thee,—

When that day comes, whose evening… Unto that watery desolation; Devoutly to thy Closet-gods then… That my wing’d ship may meet no R… Those deities which circum-walk th…

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

Ah, Cruel Love! must I endure Thy many scorns, and find no cure? Say, are thy medicines made to be Helps to all others but to me? I’ll leave thee, and to Pansies c…