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Still govern thou my song
Such joy ambition finds
Such sober certainty of waking bliss
Such sweet compulsion doth in music lie.
Sufficient to have stood, though free to fall.
Sum of earthly bliss, The
Sun to me is dark, The
Surer to prosper than prosperity
Sweet bird, that shun'st the noise of folly.
Swinish gluttony
Syene, and where the shadow both way falls..
Sylvarum liber
Tandem, chare, tuæ mihi pervenere tabella
Te, qui conspicuus baculo fulgente solebas
Tears, such as angels weep, burst forth
That golden key that opes the palace of eternity
That power which erring men call Chance
Their fatal hands no second stroke intend
Their rising all at once was as the sound
Then passed he to a flowery mountain green
Then purg'd with euphrasy and rue
There can be slain
They eat, they drink, and in communion sweet
Thick as autumnal leaves that strow the brooks
Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme
This is the month and this the happy morn
This is true Liberty, when freeborn men
This rich marble doth inter
Those graceful acts
Thou Shepherd that dost Israel keep
Thousand fantasies, A
Thousands' at his bidding speed
Thrice he assay'd, and thricee in spite of scorn
Thus they, in lowliest plight, repentant stood
Thus with the year seasons return
Thy gracious ear, O Lord, incline
Thy land to favour graciously
Time will run back and fetch the age of gold
Timely dew of sleep, The
'Tis chastity, my brother, chastity
'Tis you that say it, not I, You do the deeds
To a virtuous young lady
To be weak is miserable
To Cyriak Skinner
To God our strength sing loud and clear
To know that which before us lies in daily life
To Mr. H. Lawes on his airs

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To Mr. Lawrence
To Sir Henry Vane the Younger
To sport with Amaryllis in the shade
To the Lady Margaret Ley
To the Lord General Cromwell, May, 1652
To the nightingale
Tomorrow to fresh woods and pastures new
Tower'd cities please us then

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Unrespited, un pitied, unrepriev'd
Unsunn'd heaps of miser's treasure, The
Untwisting all the chains that tie
Upon the circumcision
Ut mens, forma, decor, facies, mos, si pietas sic
Vain wisdom all and false philosophy
Vane, young in years, but in sage counsel old
Virtue could see to do what virtue would

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What boots it at one gate to make defence
What in me is dark
What needs my Shakespeare for his honoured bones
What slender youth bedewed with liquid odours
What though the field be lost?
When Faith and Love, which parted from thee never
When I consider how my light is spent
When night darkens the streets
When the assault was intended to the city
When the blest seed of Terah's faithful son
When the gray-hooded Even
Whence and what art thou, execrable shape
Where eldest Night
Where peace and rest can never dwell, hope never comes.
Who overcomes by force, hath overcome but half his foe.
Whom do we count a good man? Whom but he
Why do the Gentiles tumult, and the nations
With centric and eccentric scribbled
With thee conversing I forget all time
Work under our labor grows, The

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Ye flaming powers, and winged warriors bright
Yet once more, O ye laurels, and once more

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