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…

Ye restless thoughts, that harbour… Cease your assaults and let my hea… And let my tongue have leave to te… That she may pity, though not gran… Pity would help, alas, what love h…

Thou art but young, thou say’€™st, And love’€™s delight thou weigh’€™… Oh! take time while thou may’€™st, Lest, when thou would’€™st, thou m… If love shall then assail thee,

And though my love abounding, Did make me fall a sounding, Yet am I well contented, Still so to be tormented, And death can never fear me,

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…

Alas what hope of speeding Where hope beguiled lies bleeding? She bade come when she spied me, And when I came she flied me. Thus when I was beguiled,

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…

When Cloris heard of her Amyntas… She grieved then for her unkind de… Oft sighing sore, and with a heart… I die, I die, I die, she thus com… Whom, when Amyntas spied,

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…

So light is love, in matchless bea… When she revisits Cypris’ hallow’… Two feeble doves, harness’d in sil… Can draw her chariot 'midst the P… Lightness to love, how ill it fitt…

Ye that do live in pleasures plent… and dwell in Music’s sweetest Air… whose eyes are quick, whose ears a… not clogg’d with earth or worldly… come sing this song, made in Amphi…

Love not me for comely grace, For my pleasing eye or face; Nor for any outward part, No, nor for my constant heart: For those may fail or turn to ill,

Sweet honey-sucking bees, why do y… surfeit on roses, pinks and violet… as if the choicest nectar lay in t… wherewith you store your curious c… Ah, make your flight to Melisuavi…

What needeth all this travail and… Shortening the life’s pleasure To seek this far-fetched treasure In those hot climates under Phoeb…

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…