Book: The Forest

• I: Why I Write Not To Love

  Some act of \Love's\ bound to reherse,
  I thought to bind him, in my verse:

  12 lines
• To Penshurst

  Thou art not, Penshurst, built to envious show,
    Of touch, or marble; nor canst boast a row

  101 lines
• X: And Must I Sing?

  And must I sing? what subject shall I chuse?
  Or whose great name in Poets heaven use?

  30 lines
• III: To Sir Robert Wroth

  How blest art thou, canst love the countrey, Wroth,
  Whether by choyce, or fate, or both!

  106 lines
• XIV: Ode: To Sir William Sydney, On His Birth-day

  Now that the harth is crown'd with smiling fire,
  And some do drink, and some do dance,

  60 lines
• IV: To The World

  A farewell for a Gentlewoman, vertuous and noble
  False world, good-night, since thou hast brought

  69 lines
• XII: Epistle To Elizabeth Countesse Of Rutland

  Madame,
  VVhil'st that, for which all vertue now is sold,

  94 lines
• V: Song: To Celia

  Come my Celia, let us prove,
  While wee may, the sports of love;

  18 lines
• IX: Song: To Celia

  Drink to me, only, with thine eyes,
  And I will pledge with mine;

  16 lines
• VI: To The Same

  Kisse mee, Sweet: The wary lover
  Can your favours keepe, and cover,

  22 lines
• XI: Epode

  Not to know vice at all, and keepe true state,
  Is vertue, and not Fate:

  116 lines
• VII: Song: That Women Are But Mens Shaddows

  Follow a shaddow, it still flies you,
  Seeme to flye it, it will pursue:

  12 lines
• XIII: Epistle: To Katherine, Lady Aubigny

  'Tis growne almost a danger to speake true
  Of any good minde, now: There are so few.

  124 lines
• VIII: Song: To Sicknesse

  Why, Disease, dost thou molest
  Ladies? and of them the best?

  48 lines
• XV: To Heaven

  Good, and great God, can I not think of thee,
  But it must, straight, my melancholy bee?

  26 lines

• By me, right now

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