An evil spirit, your beauty, haunts me still,
Michael Drayton
Fair stood the wind for France,
Like an advent'rous seafarer am I,
Bright star of beauty, on whose eyelids sit
As other men, so I myself do muse
What? Dost thou mean to cheat me of my heart?
Another to the River Anker
Yet read at last the story of my woe,
As Love and I, late harbor'd in one inn,
When like an eaglet I first found my Love,
In former times such as had store of coin,
Since there's no help, come, let us kiss and part,
When first I ended, then I first began,
Love in a humor play'd the prodigal
There's nothing grieves me, but that Age should haste,
To nothing fitter can I thee compare
You not alone, when you are still alone,
To the Soul
To Humor
My heart the anvil where my thoughts do beat;
Love's Lunacy
Some men there be which like my method well
Why should your fair eyes with such sovereign grace
Thou leaden brain, which censur'st what I write,
Muses, which sadly sit about my chair,
Plain-path'd Experience, th'unlearned's guide,
His Remedy for Love
An Allusion to the Phoenix
To Time
An evil spirit, your beauty haunts me still,
A witless gallant a young wench that woo'd
Love, banish'd Heav'n, on Earth was held in scorn,
To Folly
O why should Nature niggardly restrain
To Despair
To such as say thy love I overprize,
To the Critic
To Admiration
Some, when in rhyme they of their loves do tell,
To Miracle
Cupid Conjured
Sitting alone, Love bids me go and write;
Into these Loves who but for Passion looks,