Back To Thy Punishment, False Fugitive, And

Those Graceful Acts, Those Thousand Decencies, That Daily Flow From All Her Words And Actions, Mixed With Love And Sweet Compliance, Which Declare Unfeigned Union Of Mind, Or In Us Both One Soul.

Fear Of Change Perplexes Monarchs.

For To Interpose A Little Ease, Let Our Frail Thoughts Dally With False Surmise.

Such Sweet Compulsion Doth In Music Lie.

Anon Out Of The Earth A Fabric Huge Rose, Like An Exhalation.