Till I shall come again, let this… I send my salt, my sacrifice To thee, thy lady, younglings, and… As to thy Genius and thy Lar; To the worn threshold, porch, hall…

Three lovely sisters working were, As they were closely set, Of soft and dainty maiden-hair, A curious Armilet. I, smiling, ask’d them what they d…

Fame’s pillar here at last we set, Out—during marble, brass or jet; Charmed and enchanted so As to withstand the blow O f o v e r t h r o w ;

Am I despised, because you say; And I dare swear, that I am gray? Know, Lady, you have but your day… And time will come when you shall… Such frost and snow upon your hair…

Cupid as he lay among Roses, by a Bee was stung. Whereupon in anger flying To his Mother, said thus crying; Help! O help! your Boy’s a dying.

Droop, droop no more, or hang the… Ye roses almost withered; Now strength, and newer purple get… Each here declining violet. O primroses! let this day be

Go, happy Rose, and interwove With other flowers, bind my Love. Tell her, too, she must not be Longer flowing, longer free, That so oft has fetter’d me.

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…

Let’s live in haste; use pleasures… Could life return, 'twould never l…

Ye silent shades, whose each tree… Some relique of a saint doth wear; Who for some sweet-heart’s sake, d… The fire and martyrdom of Love:— Here is the legend of those saints

Though frankincense the deities re… We must not give all to the hallow… Such be our gifts, and such be our… As for ourselves to leave some fra…

Love is a circle, that doth restle… In the same sweet eternity of Lov…

Good morrow to the day so fair; Good morning, sir, to you; Good morrow to mine own torn hair, Bedabbled with the dew. Good morning to this primrose too;

TO THE HONOURED MR E… THE BED-CHAMBER TO HIS… Sweet country life, to such unknow… Whose lives are others’, not their… But serving courts and cities, be

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?