You Great Benefactors, Sprinkle Our Society With

Grief Fills The Room Up Of My Absent Child, Lies In His Bed, Walks Up And Down With Me, Puts On His Pretty Look, Repeats His Words, Remembers Me Of His Gracious Parts, Stuffs Out His Vacant Garments With His Form

Hide Not Thy Poison With Such Sugar'd Words

Good Morrow, Fair Ones; Pray You, If You Know, Where In The Purlieus Of This Forest Stands A Sheep-cote Fenc'd About With Olive Trees?

I Charge Thee, Hence, And Do Not Haunt Me Thus.

Love Asks Me No Questions, And Gives Me Endless Support.