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…

I see that wreath which doth the w… ‘Gainst the quick strokes of thund… To keep off deaths pale dart. For… Thou hadst been number’d still wit… Times sithe had fear’d thy Lawrel…

TELL me no more how fair she is, I have no minde to hear The story of that distant bliss I never shall come near: By sad experience I have found

Il sabio mude conseio: Il loco pe… We lov’d as friends now twenty yea… Is’t time or reason think you to g… When though two prentiships set J… I have not held my Rachel dear at…

At this glad Triumph, when most P… Their quill, I did not bridle up… For sloth or less devotion. I am… That can well keep my Holy-dayes… That can the blessings of my King…

My dearest Love! when thou and I… And th’ icy hand of death shall se… Which is all thine; within some sp… Ile leave no blanks for Legacies… Tis my ambition to die one of thos…

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…

VVere thy heart soft as thou art… Thou wer’t a wonder past compare: But frozen Love and fierce disdai… By their extremes thy graces stain… Cold coyness quenches the still fi…

Great Lady! That thus quite again… We speak your welcome by an Engli… And in a vulgar tongue our zeales… Is to confess your large prerogati… Who have the pow’rful freedom to d…

Sad Relick of a blessed Soul! who… We sealed up in this religious dus… O do not thy low Exequies suspect As the cheap arguments of our negl… ’Twas a commanded duty that thy gr…

Since thou hast view’d some Gorgo… A solid stone: To bring again to softness thy har… Is past my art. Ice may relent to water in a thaw;

VVhen your fair hand receives thi… You must not there for prose or ve… Those empty regions which within y… May by your self planted and peopl… And though we scarce allow your se…

VVhether thy Fathers, or diseases… More mortal prov’d to thy unhappy… Our sorrow needs not question; sin… Is known for length and sharpness… Thy Feaver yet was kind; which th…

When I entreat, either thou wilt… Or else my suit arriving at thy ea… Cools and dies there. A strange e… To freeze ith’ Sun, and in the sh… Whil’st all my blasted hopes decli…

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…