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

Come, bring your sampler, and with… Draw in’t a wounded heart, And dropping here and there; Not that I think that any dart Can make your’s bleed a tear,

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

What can I do in poetry, Now the good spirit’s gone from me… Why, nothing now but lonely sit And over-read what I have writ.

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…

When words we want, Love teacheth… And what we blush to speak, she bi…

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

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,

Be not proud, but now incline Your soft ear to discipline; You have changes in your life, Sometimes peace, and sometimes str… You have ebbs of face and flows,

Bell-man of night, if I about sha… For to deny my Master, do thou cr… Thou stop’st Saint Peter in the m… Stay me, by crowing, ere I do beg… Better it is, premonish’d, for to…

Be the mistress of my choice, Clean in manners, clear in voice; Be she witty, more than wise, Pure enough, though not precise; Be she showing in her dress,

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

Whenas inn silks my Julia goes, Then, then, methinks, how sweetly… That liquefaction of her clothes. Next, when I cast mine eyes and s… That brave vibration each way free…

Here lies Jonson with the rest Of the poets; but the best. Reader, would’st thou more have kn… Ask his story, not this stone. That will speak what this can’t te…

I call, I call: who do ye call? The maids to catch this cowslip ba… But since these cowslips fading be… Troth, leave the flowers, and maid… Yet, if that neither you will do,