Oxford University Press Printed in England To a Lady that desired I would love her A Song: Ask me no more where Jove bestowes Sonnet: Of thee (kind boy) I ask no red and white Sonnet: Oh! for some honest Lovers ghost. My dearest Rival, least our Love Song: Out upon it, I have lov'd . To Cynthia. On concealment of her beauty Song: Noe more unto my thoughts appeare Thou hast made me, And shall thy worke decay? This is my playes last scene, here heavens appoint At the round earths imagin'd corners, blow Death be not proud, though some have called thee What if this present were the worlds last night? Batter my heart, three person'd God; for, you |