Who Riseth From A Feast With That

When Devils Will The Blackest Sins Put On They Do Suggest At First With Heavenly Shows

Under The Colour Of Commending Him I Have Access My Own Love To Prefer; But Silvia Is Too Fair, Too True, Too Holy, To Be Corrupted With My Worthless Gifts.

And Oft, My Jealousy Shapes Faults That Are Not.

Good Morrow, 'tis Saint Valentine's Day, All In The Morn Betime, And I A Maid At Your Window, To Be Your Valentine.

O World, How Apt The Poor Are To Be Proud!