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alwayes Aunswere bewtie brest chaunce cheare clipsed corps craue Dame dayes death deede delight dolefull dost doth eche Euen euery fame farewell fauour fayle fayre fayth fighes Finis flowres Fortune fyre giue Golde grace graue graunt griefe griese groning Grype hart hath hauc haue heauie hope ioyes ipop Ladic Lady last line leaue lise loue Louer lyfe lyke lyse Maister minde mone Muse neuer noble nought opoj paine plaste pleasant plight powre prayse Procris proose raigne runne saue seeke seise semde Sephalus seruants serue shalt shewes shynes Sith Sonets sorrowes spring sunne sweete thee thefe thine thing Thomas Howell thou hast toyle trie tyme vaine vertue vnto vpon waye wayle welth Whofe whome wight woes wofull worldly wosull wretch wyll yeelde yeres youth
Page 13 - Imprinted at London in Fleeteftreate beneath the Conduite * at the figne of S.
Page 16 - Thou canft and art the onely helpe, to heale the fame againe. In thee my wealth, in thee my woe, in thee to faue or fpill. In thee my lyfe, in thee my death, doth reft to worke thy will : O falue thou then my fecret fore, fith helth in thee doe ftay : And graunt with fpeede my iuft requeft, whofe want workes my decay.
Page 30 - Troian knight imbrafed : Whofe bewties bright but darke defame hath left, Unto them both through wanton deedes preferred. As they by dynte of Death their dayes haue ended, So fhall your youth, your pompe, aud bewties grace, When nothing elfe but vertue may take place.
Page 62 - To locke for and not to come, to be in bed and not to sleepe, to serve and not to be accepted, are three tedious things.
Page 13 - Regarding naught my faythfull harte, yet from me doft it keepe. Thus harte to faine vnfkilde, in being whole is broke : In health is hurte, aliue is kilde, by dinte of dolors ftroke. And being mine, is ftoine, and led by lyking luft : Doth leaue the waye of eertaine ftay, and leaue to tiekle truft.
Page 11 - Cowarde fledde, fearing the ehylde vnborne : Whofe mother hee fhould wedde, that hath the Babe forfworne. Was euer Mayde fo madde, that might her fayth forgo ? Was euer boy fo badde, to vfe a mayden fo ? His teares did me beguyle, and eleane oppreft my powre, As doth the Croeodile, in feeking to deuoure.