Sonnet xxii. To Cyriac Skinner.

Of which all Europe rings from side to side.

Sonnet xxii. To Cyriac Skinner.

But oh! as to embrace me she inclin'd,

I wak'd, she fled, and day brought back my night.

On his Deceased Wife.

[[253]]

Have hung

My dank and dropping weeds

To the stern god of sea.