Only a little more I have to write: Then I’ll give o’er, And bid the world good-night. ’Tis but a flying minute,

Her eyes the glow—worm lend thee, The shooting stars attend thee; And the elves also, Whose little eyes glow Like the sparks of fire, befriend…

THE FAIRY TEMPLE; OR,… DEDICATED TO MR JOHN… COUNSELLOR AT LAW RARE TEMPLES THOU HAS… AND RICH FOR IN AND O…

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…

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…

How Love came in, I do not know, Whether by th’eye, or ear, or no; Or whether with the soul it came, At first, infused with the same; Whether in part ’tis here or there…

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

When I thy singing next shall hea… I’ll wish I might turn all to ear… To drink-in notes and numbers, suc… As blessed souls can’t hear too mu… Then melted down, there let me lie

Cupid as he lay among Roses, by a Bee was stung. Whereupon in anger flying To his Mother, said thus crying; Help! O help! your Boy’s a dying.

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…

Under a lawn, than skies more clea… Some ruffled Roses nestling were, And snugging there, they seem’d to… As in a flowery nunnery; They blush’d, and look’d more fres…

Blessings in abundance come To the bride and to her groom ; May the bed and this short night Know the fulness of delight! Pleasure many here attend ye,

My dearest Love, since thou wilt… And leave me here behind thee; For love or pity, let me know The place where I may find thee. AMARIL. In country meadows, pe…

Display thy breasts, my Julia, th… Behold that circummortal purity; Between whose glories, there my li… Ravished in that fair Via Lactea.

Come, Sons of Summer, by whose to… We are the lords of wine and oil: By whose tough labours, and rough… We rip up first, then reap our lan… Crown’d with the ears of corn, now…