1.  AMONG thy fancies tell me this:
  What is the thing we call a kiss?
2.  I shall resolve ye what it is:

  It is a creature born and bred
  Between the lips all cherry red,
  By love and warm desires fed;
Chor.  And makes more soft the bridal...

My love and I for kisses played:
  She would keep stakes—I was content;
But when I won, she would be paid;
  This made me ask her what she meant.
“Pray since I see,” quoth she, “your wrangling vein,
Take your own kisses; give me mine again.”

Now gentle sleep hath closèd up those eyes
Which, waking, kept my boldest thoughts in awe;
And free access unto that sweet lip lies,
From whence I long the rosy breath to draw.
Methinks no wrong it were, if I should steal
From those two melting rubies one...

To Julia
HER eyes the glow-worme lend thee,
The shooting-starres attend thee,
      And the elves also,
      Whose little eyes glow
Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee.

No Will-o’-th’-wispe mislight thee,
Nor snake nor slow-worm bite...

I Prithee send me back my heart,
  Since I cannot have thine;
For if from yours you will not part,
  Why then shouldst thou have mine?

Yet, now I think on ’t, let it lie;
  To find it were in vain;
For thou ’st a thief in either eye
  ...

Of all the torments, all the cares,
  With which our lives are curst;
Of all the plagues a lover bears,
  Sure rivals are the worst!
By partners in each other kind,
  Afflictions easier grow;
In love alone we hate to find
  Companions of...

Part First
my dear and only love, I pray,
  This noble world of thee
Be governed by no other sway
  But purest monarchie.
For if confusion have a part,
  Which virtuous souls abhore,
And hold a synod in thy heart,
  I ’ll never love...

Margarita first possessed,
If I remember well, my breast,
  Margarita first of all;
But when awhile the wanton maid
With my restless heart had played,
  Martha took the flying ball.

Martha soon did it resign
To the beauteous Catharine....

Victorious men of earth, no more
  Proclaim how wide your empires are:
Though you bind in every shore,
  And your triumphs reach as far
        As night or day,
  Yet you proud monarchs must obey,
And mingle with forgotten ashes, when
Death...

From “Fair Virtue”
SHALL I, wasting in despair,
Die, because a woman ’s Fair?
Or make pale my cheeks with care,
’Cause another’s rosy are?
Be She fairer than the Day,
Or the flowery meads in May!
  If She be not so to me,
  What care...