Clear are her eyes, Like purest skies; Discovering from thence A baby there That turns each sphere,

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…

That hour-glass which there you se… With water fill’d, sirs, credit me… The humour was, as I have read, But lovers’ tears incrystalled. Which, as they drop by drop do pas…

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

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,

BE those few hours, which I have… Blest with the meditation of my en… Though they be few in number, I’m… If otherwise, I stand indifferent… Nor makes it matter, Nestor’s yea…

Is this a life, to break thy sleep… To rise as soon as day doth peep? To tire thy patient ox or ass By noon, and let thy good days pas… Not knowing this, that Jove decre…

When I behold a forest spread With silken trees upon thy head; And when I see that other dress Of flowers set in comeliness; When I behold another grace

Let’s live in haste; use pleasures… Could life return, 'twould never l…

Not all thy flushing suns are set, Herrick, as yet ; Nor doth this far-drawn hemisphere Frown and look sullen ev’rywhere. Days may conclude in nights, and s…

HERE a pretty baby lies Sung asleep with lullabies: Pray be silent and not stir Th’ easy earth that covers her.

Give way, give way, ye gates, and… An easy blessing to your bin And basket, by our entering in. May both with manchet stand replet… Your larders, too, so hung with me…

Come pity us, all ye who see Our harps hung on the willow-tree; Come pity us, ye passers-by, Who see or hear poor widows’ cry; Come pity us, and bring your ears