| The Death of Socrates |
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| Ode 28 |
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| The Taill of the Foxe, that begylit the Wolf, in the schadow of the Mone |
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| Prologue to Lady Jane Gray, A. Sent by an unknown Hand - |
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| Tell Tom he draws a farce in vain |
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| A Dream |
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| So whether it is that the King, misled |
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| You gentlemen and tradesmen, that ride about at will |
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| Lo! ye children of men and the Mother |
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| Love Is a Law - |
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And I mus say
That you did a fine
Job writting your poem