Men say you’re fair; and fair ye a… But, hark! we praise the painter…

O earth! earth! earth! hear tho… Loving and gentle for to cover me! Banish’d from thee I live;—ne’er… Unless thou giv’st my small remain…

Charms, that call down the moon fr… On this sick youth work your encha… Bind up his senses with your numbe… As to entrance his pain, or cure h… Fall gently, gently, and a-while h…

From noise of scare-fires rest ye… From murders Benedicite. From all mischances that may frigh… Your pleasing slumbers in the nigh… Mercy secure ye all, and keep

In this little urn is laid Prudence Baldwin, once my maid, From whose happy spark here let Spring the purple violet.

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

From this bleeding hand of mine, Take this sprig of Eglantine: Which, though sweet unto your smel… Yet the fretful briar will tell, He who plucks the sweets, shall pr…

Play, Phoebus, on thy lute, And we will sit all mute; By listening to thy lyre, That sets all ears on fire. Hark, hark! the God does play!

I dreamt the Roses one time went To meet and sit in Parliament; The place for these, and for the r… Of flowers, was thy spotless breas… Over the which a state was drawn

Give me a cell To dwell, Where no foot hath A path; There will I spend,

Though hourly comforts from the go… No life is yet life-proof from mis…

For brave comportment, wit without… Words fully flowing, yet of influe… Thou art that man of men, the man… Worthy the public admiration; Who with thine own eyes read’st wh…

At draw-gloves we’ll play, And prithee let’s lay A wager, and let it be this: Who first to the sum Of twenty shall come,

When I consider, dearest, thou do… But here awhile, to languish and d… Like to these garden glories, whic… The flowery-sweet resemblances of… With grief of heart, methinks, I…

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