Tis hard to find God, but to comprehend Him, as He is, is labour without end.
Temptations hurt not, though they have accesse; Satan o'ercomes none but by willingnesse.
Here a pretty Baby lies Sung asleep with Lullabies: Pray be silent, and not stirre The easie earth that covers her.
We credit most our sight; one eye doth please Our trust farre more than ten eare-witnesses.
When a daffadill I see, Hanging down his head towards me, Guess I may, what I must be: First, I shall decline my head; Secondly, I shall be dead: Lastly, safely buryed.
My soul I'll pour into thee.
Give, if thou can, an alms; if not, a sweet and gentle word.
But here's the sunset of a tedious day, These two asleep are; I'll but be undrest, And so to bed. Pray wish us all good rest.
I do love I know not what; Sometimes this, and sometimes that.
Go to your banquet then, but use delight So as to rise still with an appetite.
Seldom comes Glory till a man be dead.
A SWEET disorder in the dress Kindles in clothes a wantonness : A lawn about the shoulders thrown Into a fine distraction : An erring lace which here and there Enthrals the crimson stomacher : A cuff neglectful, and thereby Ribbons to flow confusedly : A winning wave (deserving note) In the tempestuous petticoat : A careless shoe-string, in whose tie I see a wild civility : Do more bewitch me than when art Is too precise in every part.
Welcome, maids of honor, You doe bring In the spring, And wait upon her.
Feed him ye must, whose food fills you. And that this pleasure is like raine, Not sent ye for to drowne your paine, But for to make it spring againe.
Bid me despair, and I'll despair,Under that cypress tree;Or bid me die, and I will dareE'en Death, to die for thee.
But ne'er the rose without the thorn.
God doth not promise here to man that HeWill free him quickly from his misery;But in His own time, and when He thinks fit,Then He will give a happy end to it.
And as this round (ring) is nowhere found to flaw, or else to sever. So let our love as endless prove and pure as gold forever.
Happy is the bride that the sun shines on.
You say to me-wards your affection's strong; Pray love me little, so you love me long.
Those Saints, which God loves best, The Devil tempts not least.
Fight thou with shafts of silver, and o'ercome When no force else can get the masterdom
I'll write, because I'll give - You critics means to live; For should I not supply - The cause, the effect would die
Each must in virtue strive for to excel; That man lives twice that lives the first life well.
In the hour of my distress, When temptations me oppress, And when I my sins confess, Sweet Spirit, comfort me.
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