| Fly Vaine Pleasures, as Paines Intollerable |
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| The Conclusion |
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| Againe |
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| To the Thrice Noble, Learned, and Renowned Knight, Sr William Sydley |
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| To the Lady Wroth. In the Deserved Praise of Heavenly Musick: Resembling It to God Homselfe |
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| To My Most Deere and Best Beloved Patronesse, Magdalen Colledge in Oxford |
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| In Praise of a Little Mole-Like Scab, that Like a Rude Scab, Chanced to Take My Fancies Soveraigne by the Hand |
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| That to Sinne Finally Malitiously, Is Irremissible |
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| A Panegyricke |
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| Meete Not an Harlot, Least Thou Fall into Hir Snares |
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