Weep with me, all you that read   This little story; And know for whom a tear you shed,   Death’s self is sorry. 'Twas a child that so did thrive
Still to be neat, still to be dres… As you were going to a feast; Still to be powder’d, still perfum… Lady, it is to be presum’d, Though art’s hid causes are not fo…
Epitaphs i WOULDST thou hear what Man can… In a little? Reader, stay. Underneath this stone doth lie As much Beauty as could die:
O, that joy so soon should waste! Or so sweet a bliss As a kiss Might not for ever last! So sugared, so melting, so soft, s…
Queen and huntress, chaste and fai… Now the sun is laid to sleep, Seated in thy silver chair State in wonted manner keep: Hesperus entreats thy light,
Come, my Celia, let us prove While we may, the sports of love; Time will not be ours forever; He at length our good will sever. Spend not then his gifts in vain.
From 'Cynthia’s Revels’ Queen and huntress, chaste and fai… Now the sun is laid to sleep, Seated in thy silver chair,
My awkward grossness grows: I go… I maintain my self in the convicti… that I have as much to say as othe… and more apposite ways of saying i… Certainly I feel it has all been…
On the happy entrace of Iames, ou… Licet toto nunc Helicone frui. Mart. Heav’n now not strives, alone, our… With joyes: but urgeth his full fa…
Good and great God, can I not thi… But it must straight my melancholy… Is it interpreted in me disease That, laden with my sins, I seek… Oh be thou witness, that the reins…
Though I am young, and cannot tel… Either what Death or Love is well… Yet I have heard they both bear d… And both do aim at human hearts. And then again, I have been told
Farewell, thou child of my right h… My sin was too much hope of thee,… Seven years tho’ wert lent to me,… Exacted by thy fate, on the just d… O, could I lose all father now! F…
Here lies, to each her parents’ ru… Mary, the daughter of their youth; Yet all heaven’s gifts being heave… It makes the father less to rue. At six months’ end she parted henc…
So breaks the sun earth’s rugged c… Wherein rude winter bound her vein… So grows both stream and source of… That lately fettered were with ice… So naked trees get crisped heads,