Glossary. Bin ( Wishes): are. Complaining (Music's Duel): lamenting. Composures ( Upon Two Green Apricots): compositions. Embraves ( Sospetto d' Herode): adorns or brightens. Eyne ( The Tear, etc.): eyes. Fond (Sospetto d' Herode, etc.): foolish. Gladding Sospetto d' Herode): enlivening. Grutch (Music's Duel): grumble. Illustrious ( Foul Morning, etc.): lustrous. Instile ( Foul Morning): instill. Mistress ( Wishes): lover. Owe ( Cupid's Crier): own. Perspicil (Isaacson's Chronology): optic glass. Prefer ( Music's Duel): to offer or present. Prevents (Music's Duel): anticipates. Rampant ( Wishes): predominant, obstrusive. Strook (Sospetto d'Herode): struck. Suspect ( Sospetto d' Herode): suspicion. Taffeta ( Wishes): a sort of thin silk. Tire ( Sospetto d' Herode): head-dress.

( Wishes): dress. Tissue ( Wishes): ribband.

Inder to the first Lines.

PAGR

28

99

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41 95

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20

80

31

100

50 103 104

21

A Brook, whose stream so great, so good
A drop, one drop, how sweetly one fair drop
All Hybla’s honey, all that sweetness can
All trees, all leafy groves confess the Spring
All we have is God's, and yet
And now thou ’rt set wide ope, the spear's sad art
A plant of noble stem, forward and fair
As if the storm meant him
Britain ! the mighty Ocean's lovely bride!
Christ bids the dumb tongue speak; it speaks; the sound
Come and let us live, my dear
Come death, come bonds, nor do you shrink, my ears
Could not once blinding me, cruel, suffice? -
Death, what dost? O, hold thy blow
Each blest drop on each blest limb
Faithless and fond Mortality
Four teeth thou hadst that rank'd in goodly state
Go, smiling souls, your new-built cages break
Happy me! ( happy sheep !
Hath only Anger an omnipotence
Her eyes' flood licks His feet's fair stain
High mounted on an ant, Nanus the tall
How fit our well-rank'd feasts do follow
If ever Pity were acquainted
I paint so ill, my piece had need to be
Is murder no sin ? or a sin so cheap
I would be married, but I'd have no wife
Know you, fair, on what you look?

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51 103 84

97

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44 49 79 53

98

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52 26

Let hoary Time's vast bowels be the grave
Let it no longer be a forlorn hope
Lo here the fair Chariclia ! in whom strove
Love, brave Virtue's younger brother
Love is lost, nor can his mother
Love now no fire hath left him
'Midst all the dark and knotty snares
Muse! now the servant of soft loves no more
Now, Lord, or never, they'll believe on Thee
Now westward Sol had spent the richest beams
O mighty Nothing ! unto thee
One eye? a thousand rather, and a thousand more
On the proud banks of great Euphrates' food
O these wakeful wounds of Thine
Pallas saw Venus armed, and straight she cried
Passenger, whoe'er thou art
Rich Lazarus ! richer in those gems, thy tears
Rise heir of fresh Eternity
Rise, then, immortal maid! Religion, rise !
See here an easy feast that knows no wound
Seen? and yet hated Thee? they did not see
Show me Himself, Himself (bright Sir), O show
Take these, Time's tardy truants, sent by me
Tell me, bright boy, tell me, my golden lad
That on her lap she casts her humble eye
The modest front of this small floor
The smiling Morn had newly waked the Day
The world's Light shines; shine as it will
This reverend shadow cast that setting sun
Thou cheat'st us, Ford; mak’st one seem two by Art
Thou hast the art on't, Peter, and canst tell -
Thou spak'st the word (Thy word's a law)
Thou trimm'st a Prophet's tomb, and dost bequeath

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98

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99 95 29 43

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39 51 99 98

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