Get up, get up for shame, the Blo… Upon her wings presents the god un… See how Aurora throwes her faire Fresh—quilted colours through the… Get up, sweet—Slug—a—bed, and see

Things are uncertain; and the more… The more on icy pavements we are s…

Is this a life, to break thy sleep… To rise as soon as day doth peep? To tire thy patient ox or ass By noon, and let thy good days pas… Not knowing this, that Jove decre…

Dread not the shackles; on with th… Good wits get more fame by their p…

Come, bring your sampler, and with… Draw in’t a wounded heart, And dropping here and there; Not that I think that any dart Can make your’s bleed a tear,

For those my unbaptized rhymes, Writ in my wild unhallowed times, For every sentence, clause, and wo… That’s not inlaid with Thee, my L… Forgive me, God, and blot each li…

I ask’d thee oft what poets thou h… And lik’st the best? Still thou… —I shall, ere long, with green tur… Then sure thou’lt like, or thou wi…

My Muse in meads has spent her ma… Sitting, and sorting several sorts… To make for others garlands; and t… On many a head here, many a corone… But amongst all encircled here, no…

As is your name, so is your comely… Touch’d every where with such diff… As that in all that admirable roun… There is not one least solecism fo… And as that part, so every portion…

More discontents I never had Since I was born, than here; Where I have been, and still am,… In this dull Devonshire. Yet justly too I must confess,

Ah Ben! Say how or when Shall we, thy guests, Meet at those lyric feasts, Made at the Sun,

Thou shalt not all die; for while… Upon his altar, men shall read thy… And learn’d musicians shall, to ho… Fame, and his name, both set and s… To his book’s end this last line h…

Fair pledges of a fruitful tree, Why do ye fall so fast? Your date is not so past, But you may stay yet here a-while, To blush and gently smile;

I have lost, and lately, these Many dainty mistresses: Stately Julia, prime of all; Sappho next, a principal; Smooth Anthea, for a skin

Sea-born goddess, let me be By thy son thus graced, and thee, That whene’er I woo, I find Virgins coy, but not unkind. Let me, when I kiss a maid,