This morning, timely rapt with hol… I thought to form unto my zealous… What kind of creature I could mos… To honour, serve, and love; as poe… I meant to make her fair, and free…

Walking, snow falling, it is possi… to focus at various distances in turn on separate flakes, sharpl… the attention at several spatial p… the nearer cold and more uncomfort…

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,

For love’s sake, kiss me once agai… I long, and should not beg in vain… Here’s none to spy or see; Why do you doubt or stay? I’ll taste as lightly as the bee

Camden, most reverend head, to who…   All that I am in arts, all tha… (How nothing’s that!), to whom my…   The great renown and name where… Than thee the age sees not that th…

Let it not your wonder move, Less your laughter, that I love. Though I now write fifty years, I have had, and have, my peers. Poets, though divine, are men;

Why, Disease, dost thou molest Ladies? and of them the best? Do not men, ynow of rites To thy altars, by their nights Spent in surfets: and their dayes,

Rhyme, the rack of finest wits, That expresseth but by fits True conceit, Spoiling senses of their treasure, Cozening judgment with a measure,

Thy praise or dispraise is to me a… One doth not stroke me, nor the ot…

Spies, you are lights in state, bu… Who, when you’ve burnt yourselves… Stink and are thrown away. End fa…

GENIUS. Time, Fate, and Fortune have at l… To give our Age the day so much d… What all the minutes, houres, week… That hang in file upon these silve…

'Tis growne almost a danger to spe… Of any good minde, now: There are… The bad, by number, are so fortifi… As what th’have lost t’expect, the… So both the prais’d, and praisers…

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

COURTLING, I rather thou shou… Dispraise my work, than praise it… When I am read, thou feign’st a w… As if thou wert my friend, but lac… This but thy judgment fools: the o…

Come, my Celia, let us prove, While we can, the sports of love; Time will not be ours forever; He at length our good will sever. Spend not then his gifts in vain.