The childish god of love did swear… Thus: By my awfull bow and quiver… Yon’ weeping, kissing, smiling pai… I’le scatter all their vowes i’ th… And their knit imbraces shiver.

You that shall live awhile, before Old time tyrs, and is no more: When that this ambitious stone Stoopes low as what it tramples on… Know that in that age, when sinne

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…

WERE it that you so shun me 'cau… (Cruels’t) a fellow in your wretch… Or that you take some small ease i… Torments, to heare another sadly g… I were most happy in my paines, to…

Amarantha sweet and faire, Ah brade no more that shining hair… As my curious hand or eye, Hovering round thee, let it flye. II.

AUSONIUS LIB. I. EPIG. Thesauro invento qui limina mortis… Liquit ovans laqueum, quo perituru… At qui, quod terrae abdiderat, non… Quem laqueum invenit nexuit, et pe…

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…

What means this stately tablature, The ballance of thy streins, Which seems, in stead of sifting p… T’ extend and rack thy veins? Thy Odes first their own harmony…

In mine one monument I lye, And in my self am buried; Sure, the quick lightning of her e… Melted my soul ith’ scabberd dead; And now like some pale ghost I wa…

QUINTI CATULI. Constiteram exorientem Auroram fo… Cum subito a laeva Roscius exorit… Pace mihi liceat, coelestes, dicer… Mortalis visu pulchrior esse deo.

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

What means this stately tablature, The ballance of thy streins, Which seems, in stead of sifting p… T’ extend and rack thy veins? Thy Odes first their own harmony…

Lucasta, frown, and let me die, But smile, and see, I live; The sad indifference of your eye Both kills and doth reprieve. You hide our fate within its scree…

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

Hither with hallowed steps as is t… That must enshrine this saint with… And sad aspects as the dark vails… Virgins opprest, draw gently, gent… Enter the dismall chancell of this…