Where most my thoughts, there leas… Where least I come, there most my… Where most I love, I never show m… From what my mind doth hold, my bo… I careless seem, where most my car…

Sweet love, if thou wilt gain a mo… Subdue her heart, who makes me gla… Out of thy golden quiver, Take thou the strongest arrow, That will, thro’€™ bone and marrow…

Ah! cruel Amarillis, since thou t… To hear the accents of a doleful d… To triumph still without remorse o… I loathe this life, death must my… And lest vain hope my miseries ren…

As matchless beauty thee a Phoeni… Fair Leonilla, so thy sour-sweet… For when young Acon’s eye thy pro… Thou diest in him, and livest in m…

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…

When Cloris heard of her Amyntas… She grieved then for her unkind de… Oft sighing sore, and with a heart… I die, I die, I die, she thus com… Whom, when Amyntas spied,

Cruel, behold my heavy ending, See what you wrought by your disda… Causeless I die, love still atten… Your hopeless pity of my complaini… Suffer those eyes which thus have…

Ye that do live in pleasures plent… and dwell in Music’s sweetest Air… whose eyes are quick, whose ears a… not clogg’d with earth or worldly… come sing this song, made in Amphi…

Away, thou shalt not love me. So shall my love seem greater And I shall love the better. Shall it be so? what say you? Why speak you not I pray you?

Softly, O! dropp mine eyes, lest… And make my heart with grief to me… Now pour out tears apace, Now stay, O heavy case! O sour sweet woe!

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…

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:

There is a jewel, which no Indian… Can buy, no chymic art can counter… It makes men rich in greatest pove… Makes water wine; turns wooden cup… The homely whistle, to sweet music…

All pleasure is of this condition, It pricks men forward to fruition, But if enjoy’d, then like the humm… The honey being shed, away doth fl… But leaves a sting, that wounds th…

Fly, Love, aloft to heav’n and lo… Then sweetly, sweetly, sweetly her… That I from my Calisto best belov… As you and she set down be never m… And, Love, to Carimel see you com…