The mounting lark (day's herald) got on wing, Bidding each bird choose out his bough and sing. The lofty treble sung the little wren; Robin the mean, that best of all loves men;...
Underneath this sable herse Lies the subject of all verse: Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother: Death, ere thou hast slain another, Fair and learn'd, and good as she, Time shall throw a dart at thee....
As I have seen when on the breast of Thames A heavenly bevy of sweet English dames, In some calm ev'ning of delightful May, With music give a farewell to the day, Or as they would, with an admired tone,...