“Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me,Knowing thy heart torment me with disdain,Have put on black and loving mourners be,Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain.And truly not the morning sun of heaven Better becomes the grey cheeks of the east,Nor that full star that ushers in the even,Doth half that glory to the sober west,As those two mourning eyes become thy face:O! let it then as well beseem thy heartTo mourn for me since mourning doth thee grace,And suit thy pity like in every part. Then will I swear beauty herself is black, And all they foul that thy complexion lack”

“Wedding HymnFather, within Thy House todayWe wait Thy kindly love to see;Since thou hast said in truth that theyWho dwell in love are one with Thee,Bless those who for Thy blessing wait,Their love accept and consecrate.Dear Lord of love, whose Heart of Fire,So full of pity for our sin,Was once in that Divine DesireBroken, Thy Bride to woo and win:Look down and bless them from aboveAnd keep their hearts alight with love.Blest Spirit, who with life and lightDidst quicken chaos to Thy praise,Whose energy, in sin's despite,Still lifts our nature up to grace;Bless those who here in troth consent.Creator, crown Thy Sacrament.Great One in Three, of Whom are namedAll families in earth and heaven,Hear us, who have Thy promise claimed,And let a wealth of grace be given;Grant them in life and death to beEach knit to each, and both to Thee.”

“Thou may be sure that he who will tell thee of thy faults is thy friend, for he ventures thy dislike and doth hazard thy hatred.”

“Is it thy will, thy image should keep openMy heavy eyelids to the weary night?Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken,While shadows like to thee do mock my sight?Is it thy spirit that thou send'st from theeSo far from home into my deeds to pry,To find out shames and idle hours in me,The scope and tenor of thy jealousy?O, no! thy love, though much, is not so great:It is my love that keeps mine eye awake:Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat,To play the watchman ever for thy sake:For thee watch I, whilst thou dost wake elsewhere,From me far off, with others all too near.”

“Love is too young to know what conscience is,  Yet who knows not conscience is born of love?  Then, gentle cheater, urge not my amiss,  Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove:  For, thou betraying me, I do betray  My nobler part to my gross body's treason;  My soul doth tell my body that he may  Triumph in love; flesh stays no farther reason,  But rising at thy name doth point out thee,  As his triumphant prize. Proud of this pride,  He is contented thy poor drudge to be,  To stand in thy affairs, fall by thy side.    No want of conscience hold it that I call    Her 'love,' for whose dear love I rise and fall.”

“When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see,For all the day they view things unrespected;But when I sleep, in dreams they look on thee,And darkly bright are bright in dark directed.Then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright,How would thy shadow's form form happy showTo the clear day with thy much clearer light,When to unseeing eyes thy shade shines so!How would, I say, mine eyes be blessed madeBy looking on thee in the living day,When in dead night thy fair imperfect shadeThrough heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay!All days are nights to see till I see thee,And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.”