Celia, we know, is sixty—five, Yet Celia’s face is seventeen; Thus winter in her breast must liv… While summer in her face is seen. How cruel Celia’s fate, who hence
Parson, these things in thy posses… Are better than the Bishop’s bles… A Wife that makes conserves; a St… That carries double when there’s n… October store, and best Virginia,
How happy he, who free from care The rage of courts, and noise of t… Contented breaths his native air, In his own grounds. II.
Lycidas. Thyrsis, the music of that murm’ri… Is not so mournful as the strains… Nor rivers winding thro’ the vales… So sweetly warble, or so smoothly…
Oh be thou blest with all that He… Long Health, long Youth, long Pl… Not with those Toys the female wo… Riches that vex, and Vanities tha… With added years if Life bring no…
Shut, shut the door, good John! f… Tie up the knocker, say I’m sick,… The dog—star rages! nay 'tis past… All Bedlam, or Parnassus, is let… Fire in each eye, and papers in ea…
But anxious cares the pensive nymp… And secret passions labour’d in he… Not youthful kings in battle seiz’… Not scornful virgins who their cha… Not ardent lovers robb’d of all th…
So when Curll’s Stomach the stron… (Infus’d in Vengenance of insulte… Th’ Avenger sees, with a delighte… His long Jaws open, and his Colou… And while his Guts the keen Emeti…
Begone, ye Critics, and restrain… Codrus writes on, and will for eve… The heaviest Muse the swiftest co… As clocks run fastest when most le… What tho’ no bees around your crad…
In beauty, or wit, No mortal as yet To question your empire has dared: But men of discerning Have thought that in learning
He said, and pass’d with sad presa… To seek his spouse, his soul’s far… At home he sought her, but he soug… She, with one maid of all her meni… Had thence retir’d; and, with her…
Not with more glories, in th’ ethe… The sun first rises o’er the purpl… Than, issuing forth, the rival of… Launch’d on the bosom of the silve… Fair nymphs, and well—dress’d yout…
I am his Highness’ dog at Kew; Pray tell me, sir, whose dog are y…
When simple Macer, now of high re… First fought a Poet’s Fortune in… 'Twas all th’ Ambition his high s… To wear red stockings, and to dine… Some Ends of verse his Betters mi…
Semichorus. Oh Tyrant Love! hast thou possest The prudent, learn’d, and virtuous… Wisdom and wit in vain reclaim, And Arts but soften us to feel th…
