O wretched man! Why lov’€™st thou… Which nought enjoys but cares and… What pleasure here, but breeds a w… What hour’€™s ease, that anguish d… No earthly joys, but have their di…

Fly not so swift, my dear, behold… If not a smiling glance for all my… Yet kill me with thy frowns. The Satyrs o’er the lawns full ni… Frisk it apace to view thy beauty’…

As matchless beauty thee a Phoeni… Fair Leonilla, so thy sour-sweet… For when young Acon’s eye thy pro… Thou diest in him, and livest in m…

Dear pity, how, ah! how, wouldst t… That best becometh beauty’s best a… Shall my desert deserve no favour… But still to waste myself in deep… Like him who calls to echo to reli…

I sung sometimes my thoughts’€™ an… Where then I list, or time serv’€… While Daphne did invite me To supper once, and drank to me to… I smil’€™d, yet still did doubt he…

When shall my wretched life give p… That my sad cares may be enforc’€™… Come, saddest shadow, stop my vita… For I am thine, then let not care… Of thy sad thrall but, with thy fa…

O fools! can you not see a traffic… In my sweet lady’s face, where nat… Whatever treasure eye sees or hear… Rubies and diamonds dainty, And orient pearls such plenty,

I always beg, yet never am relieve… I grieve, because my griefs are no… I cry aloud in vain, my voice outs… And get but this, mine echo calls…

Happy streams, whose trembling fal… With still murmur softly gliding, Happy birds, whose chirping call, With sweet melody delighting, Hath mov’d her flinty and relentle…

Down in a valley as Alexis trips, Daphne sat sweetly sleeping. Soon as the wanton touch’€™d her r… She nicely falls aweeping. The wag full softly lifts her,

There is a jewel, which no Indian… Can buy, no chymic art can counter… It makes men rich in greatest pove… Makes water wine; turns wooden cup… The homely whistle, to sweet music…

Lady, when I behold the roses spr… Which clad in damask mantles deck… And then behold your lips, where s… My eyes present me with a double d… For, viewing both alike, hardly my…

Oft have I vow’d how dearly I did… And oft observ’d thee with all wil… Sighs I have sent, still hoping t… Millions of tears I tender’d to t… Yet thou of sighs and silly tears…

Thus saith my Cloris bright, when we of Love sit downe and talk… Beware of Love, deere, Love is a… And Love is this and that, And O I wot not what,

Yet, sweet, take heed, all sweets… Sting not her soft lips, Oh bewar… For if one flaming dart come from… Was never dart so sharp, ah, then…