Scobble for whoredom whips his wif… He’ll slit her nose; but blubberin… “Good sir, make no more cuts i’ th… One slit’s enough to let adultery…

When a daffodil I see, Hanging down his head towards me, Guess I may what I must be: First, I shall decline my head; Secondly, I shall be dead;

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

Only a little more I have to write: Then I’ll give o’er, And bid the world good-night. ’Tis but a flying minute,

Welcome, maids of honour, You do bring In the Spring; And wait upon her. She has virgins many,

Why I tie about thy wrist, Julia, this my silken twist? For what other reason is’t, But to shew thee how in part Thou my pretty captive art?

Tears, though they’re here below t… Above, they are the Angels’ spice…

Still to our gains our chief respe… Reward it is that makes us good or…

A SWEET disorder in the dress Kindles in clothes a wantonness: A lawn about the shoulders thrown Into a fine distraction: An erring lace which here and ther…

Have ye beheld (with much delight) A red rose peeping through a white… Or else a cherry (double graced) Within a lily? Centre placed? Or ever marked the pretty beam

Come, Anthea, let us two Go to feast, as others do: Tarts and custards, creams and cak… Are the junkets still at wakes; Unto which the tribes resort,

The May-pole is up, Now give me the cup; I’ll drink to the garlands around… But first unto those Whose hands did compose

Display thy breasts, my Julia, th… Behold that circummortal purity; Between whose glories, there my li… Ravished in that fair Via Lactea.

Thou bidst me come away, And I’ll no longer stay, Than for to shed some tears For faults of former years; And to repent some crimes

In numbers, and but these few, I sing thy birth, oh JESU! Thou pretty Baby, born here, With sup’rabundant scorn here; Who for thy princely port here,