I ask’d thee oft what poets thou h… And lik’st the best? Still thou… —I shall, ere long, with green tur… Then sure thou’lt like, or thou wi…

No news of navies burnt at seas; No noise of late spawn’d tittyries… No closet plot or open vent, That frights men with a Parliamen… No new device or late-found trick,

Ye have been fresh and green, Ye have been fill’d with flowers; And ye the walks have been Where maids have spent their hours… You have beheld how they

Things are uncertain; and the more… The more on icy pavements we are s…

Get up, get up for shame, the Blo… Upon her wings presents the god un… See how Aurora throwes her faire Fresh—quilted colours through the… Get up, sweet—Slug—a—bed, and see

You are a Tulip seen to-day, But, Dearest, of so short a stay, That where you grew, scarce man ca… You are a lovely July-flower; Yet one rude wind, or ruffling sho…

The mellow touch of music most dot… The soul, when it doth rather sigh…

In man, ambition is the common’st… Each one by nature loves to be a k…

Come, sit we under yonder tree, Where merry as the maids we’ll be; And as on primroses we sit, We’ll venture, if we can, at wit; If not, at draw-gloves we will pla…

Whither dost thou hurry me, Bacchus, being full of thee? This way, that way, that way, this… Here and there a fresh Love is; That doth like me, this doth pleas…

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

A SWEET disorder in the dress Kindles in clothes a wantonness: A lawn about the shoulders thrown Into a fine distraction: An erring lace which here and ther…

Since shed or cottage I have none… I sing the more, that thou hast on… To whose glad threshold, and free… I may a Poet come, though poor; And eat with thee a savoury bit,

In this world, the isle of dreams, While we sit by sorrow’s streams, Tears and terrors are our themes Reciting: But when once from hence we fly,

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…