Would we attain the happiest Stat… That is design’d us here; No Joy a Rapture must create, No Grief beget Despair. No Injury fierce Anger raise,

How vain is Life! which rightly w… To flying Posts, that haste away; To Plants, that fade with the dec… To Clouds, that sail amidst the y… Till by Extention into that they…

In Fanscomb Barn (who knows not… Seated between the sides of rising… Whose airy Tops o’erlook the Gall… Whilst, gentle Stower, thy Waters… To beautify the Seats that crown…

What art thou, SPLEEN, which ev… Thou Proteus to abus’d Mankind, Who never yet thy real Cause cou’… Or fix thee to remain in one conti… Still varying thy perplexing Form…

At last, my old inveterate foe, No opposition shalt thou know. Since I by struggling, can obtain Nothing, but encrease of pain, I will att last, no more do soe,

By neer resemblance see that Bird… Who takes the well wrought Arras… There hopes to pearch and with a c… O’re-passe the scortchings of the… But soon repuls’d by the obdurate…

O King of Terrors, whose unbounde… All that have Life, must certainl… The King, the Priest, the Prophe… Nor wou’d ev’n God (in Flesh) thy… My Name is on thy Roll, and sure…

Cou’d our First Father, at his to… Thorns in his Path, and Labour on… Cloath’d only in a rude, unpolish’… Cou’d he a vain Fantastick Nymph… In all her Airs, in all her antic…

When such a day, blesst the Arcad… Warm without Sun, and shady witho… Fann’d by an air, that scarsly ben… Or wav’d the woodbines, on the sum… The Nymphs disorder’d beauty cou’…

A Peevish Fellow laid his Head On Pillows, stuff’d with Down; But was no sooner warm in Bed, With hopes to rest his Crown, But Animals of slender size,

O Man! what Inspiration was thy… Who taught thee Light and Air thu… To let in all the useful Beams of… Yet force, as subtil Winds, witho… T’extract from Embers by a strang…

A Quack, to no true Skill in Phy… With frequent Visits cursed his P… Enquiring, how he did his Broths… How chim’d his Pulse, and how he… If shudd’ring Cold by Burnings wa…

Soothing his Passions with a warb… A Shepherd-Swain lay stretch’d up… Whilst all were mov’d, who their… Or with the Harmony in Chorus wen… To something less than Joy, yet m…

CUPID one day ask’d his Mother, When she meant that he shou’d Wed… You’re too Young, my Boy, she sai… Nor has Nature made another Fit to match with Cupid’s Bed.

Silvia, let us from the crowd reti… For what to you and me (Who but each other do desire) Is all that here we see? Apart we’ll live, though not alone…