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agen Anthea best fits Bloud bread bring ye Love cal'd Chor Christ circumcise cleere cloathes co'd comfort Crojfe dayes dead Death do's doth drink drown'd e're Epig eternall Eternitie ev'ry eyes fall farre Faunus feare fire fits a little flie Frankincense give Glory Gods GODS Hands Grace hath heare heart Heaven Hell hence Henry Lawes Him/else holy honour I'le i'th Jemme Jephthah Julia keep King kisse live Lord Maids meat mercy mirth Mistresse Muse ne're never New-yeeres Gift night o're oyle Perilla poore praid praise Prescience present laughter Prince ravisht Roses Sapho Saviour sayes scumme selse Sepulcher shew sho'd sing Skurfe sleep Song soule spring Storax Sweet Spirit teares tell thee there's thine things Thou art Thou dost thou hast thou shalt Tombe twill unto vaults of death Verse Vineger Wassaile we'l weeping Wine wo'd wooe yeere
Page 155 - Now, now the mirth comes, With the cake full of plums, Where beane's the king of the sport here ; Beside we must know, The pea also Must revell as queene in the court here.
Page 221 - HUMILITY. HUMBLE we must be, if to heaven we go ; High is the roof there, but the gate is low.
Page 50 - I've none, A cock I have to sing how day draws on: I have A maid, my Prue, by good luck sent, To save That little, Fates me gave or lent. A hen I keep, which, creeking day by day, Tells when She goes her long white egg to lay: A goose I have, which, with a jealous ear, Lets loose Her tongue, to tell what danger's near.
Page 224 - To welcome Him. 2. The nobler part Of all the house here, is the heart, Chor. Which we will give Him ; and bequeath This Hollie, and this Ivie Wreath, To do Him honour ; who's our King, And Lord of all this Revelling.
Page 107 - Charme for Stables HANG up Hooks, and Sheers to scare Hence the Hag, that rides the Mare, Till they be all over wet, With the mire, and the sweat: This observ'd, the Manes shall be Of your horses, all knot-free.
Page 229 - Declare to us, bright star, if we shall seek Him in the morning's blushing cheek, Or search the beds of spices through To find him out. Star. No, this ye need not do, But only come and see him rest, A princely babe in's mother's breast.
Page 3 - WHEN I a verse shall make, Know I have praid thee, For old religion's sake, Saint Ben, to aid me.
Page 187 - Writ in my wild unhallowed times ; For every sentence, clause, and word, That's not inlaid with thee, my Lord, Forgive me, God, and blot each line Out of my book that is not thine. But if, 'mongst all, thou find'st here one Worthy thy benediction ; That one of all the rest shall be The glory of my work and me.