"He that loves a rosy cheek, Or a coral lip admires, Or from star-like eyes doth seek Fuel to maintain his fires,— As old Time makes these decay, So his flames must waste away."

"Then fly betimes, for only they Conquer Love that run away."

"An untimely grave."

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"I have learned thy arts, and now Can disdain as much as thou."

"The purest soul that e'er was sent Into a clayey tenement."

"Ask me no more, where those stars light, That downwards fall in dead of night; For in your eyes they sit, and there Fixed become, as in their sphere."

"Ask me no more, if east or west, The phenix builds her spicy nest; For unto you at last she flies, And in your fragrant bosom dies."

"Ask me no more, whither do stray The golden atoms of the day; For, in pure love, Heaven did prepare Those, powders to enrich your hair."

"Give me a wench about thirteene, Already voted to the Queene Of lust and lovers, whose soft haire, Fann’d with the breath of gentle aire Or’e spreads her shoulders like a tent, And is her vaile and ornament:"

"Stand still, you floods, do not deface That image which you bear: So votaries, from every place, To you shall altars rear.No winds but lovers' sighs blow here, To trouble these glad streams, On which no star from any sphere Did ever dart such beams."

"But if the envious nymphs shall fear Their beauties will be scorn'd, And hire the ruder winds to tear That face which you adorn'd;Then rage and foam amain, that we Their malice may despise; And from your froth we soon shall see A second Venus rise."

"O, saw ye the lass wi’ the bonnie blue een? Her smile is the sweetest that ever was seen, Her cheek like the rose is, but fresher, I ween, She ’s the loveliest lassie that trips on the green."

"Ask me no more where Jove bestows, When June is past, the fading rose; For in your beauties, orient deep These flow'rs, as in their causes, steep."

"And here the precious dust is laid, Whose purely tempered clay was made So fine that it the guest betrayed. Else the soul grew so fast within, It broke the outward shell of sin, And so was hatched a cherubin."

"Good to the poor, to kindred dear, To servants kind, to friendship clear, To nothing but herself severe."

"My Lord Tomnoddy is thirty-four; The Earl can last but a few years more. My Lord in the Peers will take his place: Her Majesty’s councils his words will grace. Office he’ll hold and patronage sway; Fortunes and lives he will vote away; And what are his qualifications?—ONE! He’s the Earl of Fitzdotterel’s eldest son."

"Father of Peace, and God of love! We own Thy power to save, That power by which our Shepherd rose Victorious o'er the grave."

"Ye servants of the Lord, Each in his office wait, Observant of the heavenly word, And watchful at his gate."

"His goodness stands approved, Unchanged from day to day; I'll drop my burden at His feet, And bear a song away."

"Hark, the glad sound! The Savior comes, The Savior promised long; Let every heart exult with joy, And every voice be song!"

"O God of Bethel! by whose hand Thy people still are fed, Who through this weary pilgrimage Hast all our fathers led."

"Live while you live, the epicure would say, And seize the pleasures of the present day; Live while you live, the sacred preacher cries, And give to God each moment as it flies. Lord, in my views, let both united be: I live in pleasure when I live to thee."

"Awake, my soul! stretch every nerve, And press with vigour on; A heavenly race demands thy zeal, And an immortal crown."

"Whenas in perfume Julia went, Then, then, how sweet was the intent Of that inexorable scent."

"Religion, in its most general view, is such a Sense of God in the soul, and such a conviction of our obligations to him, and of our dependence upon him, as shall engage us to make it our great care to conduct ourselves in a manner which we have reason to believe will be pleasing to him."

"Fresh with all airs of woodland brooks And scents of showers, Take to your haunt of holy books This saint of flowers."

"Dear Saviour! we are Thine, By everlasting bands; Our hearts, our souls, we would resign Entirely to Thy hands."

"A word with you, that of the singer recalling— Old Herrick: a saying that every maid knows is A flower unplucked is but left to the falling, And nothing is gained by not gathering roses."

"To work a wonder, God would have her shown At once a bud and yet a rose full-blown."

"I dreamt this mortal part of mine Was metamorphos'd to a vine."

"In that whiter island, where Things are evermore sincere; Candour here, and lustre there Delighting."

"Methought, her long small legs and thighs I with my tendrils did surprise; Her belly, buttocks, and her waist By my soft nerv'lets were embrac'd."

"Temptations hurt not, though they have access: Satan o'ercomes none, but by willingness."

"Here a little child I stand Heaving up my either hand. Cold as paddocks though they be, Here I lift them up to Thee, For a benison to fall On our meat, and on us all. Amen."

"But when I crept with leaves to hide Those parts, which maids keep unespy'd, Such fleeting pleasures there I took, That with the fancy I awoke; And found, ah me! this flesh of mine More like a stock than like a vine."

"Hell is no other but a soundless pit, Where no one beam of comfort peeps in it."

"When the artless doctor sees No one hope, but of his fees, And his skill runs on the lees, Sweet Spirit, comfort me!When his potion and his pill Has, or none, or little skill, Meet for nothing, but to kill; Sweet Spirit, comfort me!"

"Lord, Thou hast given me a cell Wherein to dwell; A little house, whose humble roof Is weather-proof; Under the spars of which I lie Both soft and dry."

"In the hour of my distress, When temptations me oppress, And when I my sins confess, Sweet Spirit, comfort me!"

"A little buttery, and therein A little bin Which keeps my little loaf of bread Unclipt, unflead. Some brittle sticks of thorn or briar Make me a fire, Close by whose living coal I sit, And glow like it."

"If anything delight me for to print My book, 'tis this: that Thou, my God, art in't."

"There is a lady sweet and kind, Was never face so pleased my mind; I did but see her passing by, And yet I love her till I die."

"In prayer the lips ne'er act the winning part, Without the sweet concurrence of the heart."