Here she lies, a pretty bud, Lately made of flesh and blood, Who as soon fell fast asleep As her little eyes did peep. Give her strewings, but not stir

Fled are the frosts, and now the f… Reclothed in fresh and verdant dia… Thaw’d are the snows; and now the… Gives to each mead a neat enamelli… The palms put forth their gems, an…

What will ye, my poor orphans, do, When I must leave the world and y… Who’ll give ye then a sheltering s… Or credit ye, when I am dead? Who’ll let ye by their fire sit,

To gather flowers, Sappha went, And homeward she did bring Within her lawny continent, The treasure of the Spring. She smiling blush’d, and blushing…

I would to God, that mine old age… Before my last, but here a living… Some one poor almshouse, there to… Ghost—like, as in my meaner sepulc… A little piggin, and a pipkin by,

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…

Dew sate on Julia’s hair, And spangled too, Like leaves that laden are With trembling dew; Or glitter’d to my sight,

Music, thou queen of heaven, care-… That strik’st a stillness into hel… Thou that tam’st tigers, and fierc… With thy soul-melting lullabies; Fall down, down, down, from those…

Love in a shower of blossoms came Down, and half drown’d me with the… The blooms that fell were white an… But with such sweets commingled, As whether (this) I cannot tell,

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

Life of my life, take not so soon… But stay the time till we have bad… Thou hast both wind and tide with… As soon dispatch’d is by the night… Let us not then so rudely hencefor…

Life is the body’s light; which, o… Those crimson clouds i’ th’ cheeks… Those counter-changed tabbies in t… The sun once set, all of one colou… So, when death comes, fresh tinctu…

Ah, Posthumus! our years hence f… And leave no sound: nor piety, Or prayers, or vow Can keep the wrinkle from the brow… But we must on,

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

My soul would one day go and seek For roses, and in Julia’s cheek A richess of those sweets she foun… As in another Rosamond; But gathering roses as she was,