Part 137 (1/2)

'Tis liberty to serve one lord; but he, II. 103.

'Tis much among the filthy to be clean, II. 147.

'Tis never, or but seldom known, II. 80.

'Tis no discomfort in the world to fall, II. 147.

'Tis not a thousand bullocks' thighs, I. 24.

'Tis not every day that I, II. 51.

'Tis not greatness they require, I. 24.

'Tis not the food but the content, I. 154.

'Tis not the walls or purple that defends, II. 53.

'Tis said as Cupid danc'd among, II. 49.

'Tis still observ'd that fame ne'er sings, II. 55.

'Tis still observ'd those men most valiant are, II. 134.

'Tis the chyrurgeon's praise and height of art, II. 84.

'Tis worse than barbarous cruelty to show, I. 251.

To a love feast we both invited are, II. 191.

To all our wounds here, whatsoe'er they be, II. 238.

To an old sore a long cure must go on, II. 138.

To bread and water none is poor, I. 38.

To conquered men, some comfort 'tis to fall, I. 60.

To fetch me wine my Lucia went, I. 234.

To find that tree of life whose fruits did feed, I. 74.

To gather flowers Sappha went, II. 62.

To get thine ends lay bashfulness aside, I. 7.

To him who longs unto his Christ to go, II. 222.

To his book's end this last line he'd have placed, II. 165.

To house the hag, you must do this, II. 104.