I once did hold it, as our statists do, A baseness to write fair and labour'd much How to forget that learning

never in his life Felt so much cold as over shoes in snow

"Deep Regret"? as Adam Young describes it.. have lots of't.. just earlier.

O, that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth! Then with a passion would I shake the world

Transform me then, and to your power I'll yield.

shut My woeful self up in a mourning house, Raining the tears of lamentation

many will be too chill and tender

You are not worth the dust which the rude wind Blows in your face.

if it be not too rough for some that know little but bowling, it will please plentifully.

Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore, So do our minutes hasten to their end