We two are last in hell; what may we fear

And I call’d onHim but awhile to stay;But he’d be gone,For aught that I could say.He held out thenA writing, as he went,And ask’d me, whenFalse man would be contentTo pay againWhat God and Nature lent.An hour-glass,In which were sands but few,As he did pass,He shew’d,–and told me tooMine end near was;–And so away he…

When on her lip thou hast thy sweet dew placed,Mark if her tongue but slyly steal a taste;If so, we live; if not, with mournful hum,Toll forth my death; next, to my burial come.

Which quench’d, then lay it up again,Till Christmas next return.Part must be kept, wherewith to teendThe Christmas log next year;And where ’tis safely kept, the fiendCan do no mischief there.

Now strength, and newer purple get,Each here declining violet.O primroses! let this day beA resurrection unto ye;And to all flowers allied in blood,Or sworn to that sweet sisterhood.For health on Julia’s cheek hath shedClaret and cream commingled;And those, her lips, do now appearAs beams of coral, but more clear.

In the wild air, when thou hast roll’d about,And, like a blasting planet, found her out;Stoop, mount, pass by to take her eye–then glareLike to a dreadful comet in the air:Next, when thou dost perceive her fixed sightFor thy revenge to be most opposite,Then, like a globe, or ball of wild-fire, fly,And break thyself in…

The blooms that fell were white and red;But with such sweets commingled,As whether (this) I cannot tell,My sight was pleased more, or my smell;But true it was, as I roll’d there,Without a thought of hurt or fear,Love turn’d himself into a bee,And with his javelin wounded me;—From which mishap this use I make;Where most sweets…