Con mala Muger el remedio Mucha Tierra por el medio. I have oft wondred why thou didst… Thy Mistress of a stuff none coul… That wore his eyes in the right pl…

Tell me you stars that our affecti… Why made ye me that cruell one to… Why burnes my heart her scorned sa… Whose breast is hard as Chrystall… God of Desire! if all thy Votarie…

But is it true, the Court mislik’… That Christ-Church and the Arts… That Ignoramus should so far exce… Their Hobby-horse from ours hath… Troth you are justly serv’d, that…

Dry those fair, those chrystal eye… Which like growing fountains rise To drown their banks. Griefs sull… Would better flow in furrow’d look… Thy lovely face was never meant

To have liv’d eminent in a degreee Beyond our lofty’st flights, that… Or t’have had too much merit is no… For such excesses find no Epitaph… At common graves we have Poetick…

I know no fitter subject for your… Then this, a meditation ripe for y… As you for it. Which when you rea… What kind of wife your self will o… Which happy day be neer you, and m…

It is, Sir, a confest intrusion h… That I before your labours do app… Which no loud Herald need, that m… Or seek acceptance, but the Autho… Much less that should this happy w…

I prethee turn that face away Whose splendour but benights my da… Sad eyes like mine, and wounded he… Shun the bright rayes which beauty… Unwelcome is the Sun that pries

This Pile thou seest built out of… Contains no shroud within, nor mou… This bloodless Trunk is destitute… Which may the Soul-fled Mansion e… This seeming Sepulchre (to tell t…

So breaks the day when the returni… Hath newly through his Winter Tro… As You (Great Sir!) in this regr… From the remoter Climate of the N… To tell You now what cares, what…

Lady your art or wit could nere de… To shame me more then in this nigh… Why I am quite unready, and my ey… Now winking like my candle, doth d… To guide my hand, if it had ought…

Perhaps ’twas but conceit. Errone… Thou art thine own distemper and o… Imagine then, that sick unwholsom… Was thy corruption breath’d into a… Nor is it strange, when we in char…

My best of friends! what needs a c… One by your merit bound a Votarie… Think you I have some plot upon m… I would this bondage change for a… Since ’twas my fate your prisoner…

Brought forth in sorrow, and bred… Two tender Children here entombed… One Place, one Sire, one Womb th… They had one mortal sickness, and… And though they cannot number many…

MY once dear love, hapless that I… Must call thee so, the rich affect… That fed our hope lies now exhaust… Like sums of treasure unto bankrup… We, that did nothing study but the…