| To the Worthy Author |
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| As on a day Sabina fell asleepe |
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| Faine would I my love disclose |
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| Of this Ensuing Discourse |
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| The Peacefull westerne winde the wintrye stormes hath calmde |
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| Good men, shew, if you can tell |
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| Ad Cambricum |
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| What Then Is Love But Mourning? |
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| The Peaceful Western Wind |
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| Where She Her Sacred Bower Adorns |
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