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

Here we securely live, and eat The cream of meat; And keep eternal fires, By which we sit, and do divine, As wine

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…

When with the virgin morning thou… Crossing thyself come thus to sacr… First wash thy heart in innocence;… Pure hands, pure habits, pure, pur… Next to the altar humbly kneel, an…

Though clock, To tell how night draws hence, I’… A cock I have to sing how day draws on: I have

SWEET western wind, whose luck i…    Made rival with the air, To give Perenna’s lip a kiss,    And fan her wanton hair: Bring me but one, I’ll promise th…

Ah Ben! Say how or when Shall we, thy guests, Meet at those lyric feasts, Made at the Sun,

HERE, Here I live with what my… Can with the smallest cost afford; Though ne’er so mean the viands be… They well content my Prue and me: Or pea or bean, or wort or beet,

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,—

I have lost, and lately, these Many dainty mistresses: Stately Julia, prime of all; Sappho next, a principal; Smooth Anthea, for a skin

Health is the first good lent to m… A gentle disposition then: Next, to be rich by no by-ways; Lastly, with friends t’ enjoy our…

Here she lies, in bed of spice, Fair as Eve in paradise; For her beauty, it was such, Poets could not praise too much. Virgins come, and in a ring

From this bleeding hand of mine, Take this sprig of Eglantine: Which, though sweet unto your smel… Yet the fretful briar will tell, He who plucks the sweets, shall pr…

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!

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,