Health is the first good lent to m… A gentle disposition then: Next, to be rich by no by-ways; Lastly, with friends t’ enjoy our…

Kindle the Christmas brand, and t… Till sunset let it burn; Which quench’d, then lay it up aga… Till Christmas next return. Part must be kept, wherewith to te…

You are a Tulip seen to-day, But, Dearest, of so short a stay, That where you grew, scarce man ca… You are a lovely July-flower; Yet one rude wind, or ruffling sho…

Whither dost thou hurry me, Bacchus, being full of thee? This way, that way, that way, this… Here and there a fresh Love is; That doth like me, this doth pleas…

Come thou, who art the wine and wi… Of all I’ve writ; The grace, the glory, and the best Piece of the rest; Thou art of what I did intend

Down with the rosemary and bays, Down with the misletoe; Instead of holly, now up-raise The greener box, for show. The holly hitherto did sway;

What will ye, my poor orphans, do, When I must leave the world and y… Who’ll give ye then a sheltering s… Or credit ye, when I am dead? Who’ll let ye by their fire sit,

Under a lawn, than skies more clea… Some ruffled Roses nestling were, And snugging there, they seem’d to… As in a flowery nunnery; They blush’d, and look’d more fres…

Let us, though late, at last, my… And loving lie in one devoted bed. Thy watch may stand, my minutes fl… No sound calls back the year that… Then, sweetest Silvia, let’s no l…

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 the…

First, April, she with mellow sho… Opens the way for early flowers; Then after her comes smiling May, In a more rich and sweet array; Next enters June, and brings us m…

Ah, my Perilla! dost thou grieve… Me, day by day, to steal away from… Age calls me hence, and my gray ha… And haste away to mine eternal hom… ‘Twill not be long, Perilla, afte…

When all birds else do of their mu… Money’s the still-sweet-singing ni…

Whatsoever thing I see, Rich or poor although it be, —'Tis a mistress unto me. Be my girl or fair or brown, Does she smile, or does she frown;

How Love came in, I do not know, Whether by th’eye, or ear, or no; Or whether with the soul it came, At first, infused with the same; Whether in part ’tis here or there…