y comfort of my life, II. 149.

The person crowns the place; your lot doth fall, II. 128.

The power of princes rest in the consent, II. 155.

The readiness of doing doth express, II. 92.

The repetition of the name made known, II. 229.

The rose was sick, and smiling died, II. 44.

The saints-bell calls, and, Julia, I must read, II. 7.

The same who crowns the conquerer, will be, II. 227.

The seeds of treason choke up as they spring, I. 9.

The shame of man's face is no more, II. 228.

The strength of baptism that's within, II. 247.

The sup'rabundance of my store, II. 220.

The tears of saints more sweet by far, II. 224.

The time the bridegroom stays from hence, II. 225.

The twilight is no other thing, we say, II. 148.

The Virgin Mary was, as I have read, II. 232.

The Virgin Mother stood at a distance, there, II. 230.

The work is done, now let my laurel be, II. 249.

The work is done: young men and maidens, set, II. 164.

Then did I live when I did see, II. 140.

There is no evil that we do commit, II. 233.

There's no constraint to do amiss, II. 239.

These fresh beauties (we can prove), I. 16.

These springs were maidens once that lov'd, I. 225.

These summer-birds did with thy master stay, I. 189.

These temporal goods God, the most wise, commends, II. 234.

Things are uncertain, and the more we get, II. 144.

This axiom I have often heard, II. 39.

This crosstree here, II. 253.

This day is yours, great Charles! and in this war, II. 87.

This day, my Julia, thou must make, II. 83.

This I'll tell ye by the way, II. 152.

This is my comfort when she's most unkind, II. 151.

This is the height of justice: that to do, II. 14.

This rule of manners I will teach my guests, II. 137.

This stone can tell the story of my life, II. 128.

Those ends in war the best contentment bring, II. 144.

Those garments lasting evermore, II. 242.

Those ills that mortal men endure, I. 192.

Those possessions short-liv'd are, II. 50.

Those saints which God loves best, II. 175.

Those tapers which we set upon the grave, II. 230.

Thou art a plant sprung up to wither never, I. 122.

Thou art to all lost love the best, I. 132.

Thou bid'st me come away, II. 186.

Thou bid'st me come; I cannot come; for why? II. 186.

Thou cam'st to cure me, doctor, of my cold, I. 121.

Thou gav'st me leave to kiss, I. 178.

Thou had'st the wrea