On, as thou hast begun, brave youth, and get The palm from Urbin, Titian, Tintoret, Brugel and Coxu, and the works outdo Of Holbein and that mighty Rubens too. So draw and paint as none may do the like,...
Since, for thy full deserts, with all the rest Of these chaste spirits that are here possest Of life eternal, time has made thee one For growth in this my rich plantation,...
Go, pretty child, and bear this flower Unto thy little Saviour; And tell him, by that bud now blown, He is the Rose of Sharon known. When thou hast said so, stick it there Upon his bib or stomacher;...
When after many lusters thou shalt be Wrapt up in sear-cloth with thine ancestry; When of thy ragg'd escutcheons shall be seen So little left, as if they ne'er had been;...
Whom should I fear to write to if I can Stand before you, my learn'd diocesan? And never show blood-guiltiness or fear To see my lines excathedrated here. Since none so good are but you may condemn,...
My Muse in meads has spent her many hours Sitting, and sorting several sorts of flowers, To make for others garlands; and to set On many a head here, many a coronet. But amongst all encircled here, not one...
Charms, that call down the moon from out her sphere, On this sick youth work your enchantments here! Bind up his senses with your numbers, so As to entrance his pain, or cure his woe....
Charm me asleep, and melt me so With thy delicious numbers; That being ravish'd, hence I go Away in easy slumbers. Ease my sick head, And make my bed, Thou Power that canst sever...
Laid out for dead, let thy last kindness be With leaves and moss-work for to cover me; And while the wood-nymphs my cold corpse inter, Sing thou my dirge, sweet-warbling chorister!...
Stand forth, brave man, since fate has made thee here The Hector over aged Exeter, Who for a long, sad time has weeping stood Like a poor lady lost in widowhood, But fears not now to see her safety sold,...
Never my book's perfection did appear Till I had got the name of Villars here: Now 'tis so full that when therein I look I see a cloud of glory fills my book. Here stand it still to dignify our Muse,...
I saw about her spotless wrist, Of blackest silk, a curious twist; Which, circumvolving gently, there Enthrall'd her arm as prisoner. Dark was the jail, but as if light...
Twice has Pudica been a bride, and led By holy Hymen to the nuptial bed. Two youths she's known thrice two, and twice three years; Yet not a lily from the bed appears:...
As gilliflowers do but stay To blow, and seed, and so away; So you, sweet lady, sweet as May, The garden's glory, lived a while To lend the world your scent and smile....