Hearke, reader! wilt be learn’d it… A gen’rall in a gowne? Strike a league with arts and scar… And snatch from each a crowne? II.

As I beheld a winter’s evening ai… Curl’d in her court-false-locks of… Butter’d with jessamine the sun le… II. Galliard and clinquant she appear’…

Why should you swear I am forswor… Since thine I vowed to be? Lady, it is already morn, And ’twas last night I swore to t… That fond impossibility.

What, so beyond all madnesse is th… Now he hath got out of himself! His fatal enemy the Bee, Nor his deceiv’d artillerie, His shackles, nor the roses bough

FOR Cherries plenty, and for Cor… Enough for fifty, were there more… For Elles of Beere Flutes of Can… That well did wash downe pasties—m… For Peason, Chickens, sawces high…

Strive not, vain lover, to be fine… Thy silk’s the silk-worm’s, and no… You lessen to a fly your mistriss’… To think it may be in a cobweb cau… What, though her thin transparent…

No more Thou little winged Archer, now no… As heretofore, Thou maist pretend within my breas… No more,

When I by thy faire shape did swe… And mingled with each vowe a teare… I lov’d, I lov’d thee best, I swore as I profest. For all the while you lasted warme…

Oh, stay that covetous hand; first… All depth and minde; then mystical… Her soul’s faire picture, her fair… So truely copied from th’ original… That you will sweare her body by t…

TIS true the beauteous Starre To which I first did bow Burnt quicker, brighter far Then that which leads me now ; Which shines with more delight:

Cord. Distressed pilgrim, who… Speak thee a martyr to love’s crue… Whither away? Amor. What p… Calls back my flying steps?

SHE beat the happy pavement— By such a star made firmament,    Which now no more the roof envi…    But swells up high, with Atlas…    Bearing the brighter nobler hea…

Vnhappy youth, betrayd by Fate To such a love hath sainted hate, And damned those celestiall bands Are onely knit with equal hands; The love of great ones is a love,

Night! loathed jaylor of the lock’… And tyrant-turnkey on committed da… Bright eyes lye fettered in thy du… And Heaven it self doth thy dark… Thou dost arise our living hell;

You, that can aptly mixe your joye… And weave white Iös with black El… Can Caroll out a Dirge, and in on… Sing to the Tune, either of life,… You, that can weepe the gladnesse…