Poem by James Shirley

On Her Dancing

I stood and saw my Mistress dance,
Silent, and with so fixed an eye,
Some might suppose me in a trance:
But being asked why,
By one I who knew I was in love,
I could not but impart
My wonder, to behold her move
So nimbly with a marble heart. 

1. Cease, Warring Thoughts
2. The Fair Felon
3. To the Painter Preparing to Draw M.M.H.
4. Sililoquy on Death
5. To a Lady upon a Looking-Glass Sent

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