Ye restless thoughts, that harbour… Cease your assaults and let my hea… And let my tongue have leave to te… That she may pity, though not gran… Pity would help, alas, what love h…

O, what shall I do, or whither sh… Shall I make unto her eyes? O, no… Shall I seal up my eyes and speak… Then in a flood of tears I drown… For tears being stopped will swell…

What needeth all this travail and… Shortening the life’s pleasure To seek this far-fetched treasure In those hot climates under Phoeb…

Dear pity, how, ah! how, wouldst t… That best becometh beauty’s best a… Shall my desert deserve no favour… But still to waste myself in deep… Like him who calls to echo to reli…

Draw on, Sweet Night, friend unto… That do arise from painful melanch… My life so ill through want of com… that unto thee I consecrate it who… Sweet Night, draw on

Happy streams, whose trembling fal… With still murmur softly gliding, Happy birds, whose chirping call, With sweet melody delighting, Hath mov’d her flinty and relentle…

I am quite tired with my groans; O’ercharged with a heavy load Of miseries, breaking all my bones… Laid on me justly by my God.

When shall my wretched life give p… That my sad cares may be enforc’€™… Come, saddest shadow, stop my vita… For I am thine, then let not care… Of thy sad thrall but, with thy fa…

I always beg, yet never am relieve… I grieve, because my griefs are no… I cry aloud in vain, my voice outs… And get but this, mine echo calls…

I fall, I fall, O stay me, Dear love, with joys you slay me, Of life your lips deprive me, Sweet, let your lips revive me, O whither are you hasting,

Adieu, adieu sweet amaryllis. For since to part your will is. O heavy tiding Here is for me no biding.

Fly not so swift, my dear, behold… If not a smiling glance for all my… Yet kill me with thy frowns. The Satyrs o’er the lawns full ni… Frisk it apace to view thy beauty’…

Ay me; can every rumour Thus start my lady’s humour? Name ye some gallant to her Why straight forsooth I woo her. Then burst she forth in passion:

So light is love, in matchless bea… When she revisits Cypris’ hallow’… Two feeble doves, harness’d in sil… Can draw her chariot 'midst the P… Lightness to love, how ill it fitt…

Sweet honey-sucking bees, why do y… surfeit on roses, pinks and violet… as if the choicest nectar lay in t… wherewith you store your curious c… Ah, make your flight to Melisuavi…