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…

As Merc’ry travell’d thro’ a Wood… (Whose Errands are more Fleet tha… An Elephant before him lay, That much encumber’d had the Way: The Messenger, who’s still in has…

Exert thy Voice, sweet Harbinger… This Moment is thy Time to sing, This Moment I attend to Praise, And set my Numbers to thy Layes. Free as thine shall be my Song;

To the Superior World to Solemn… To Regions where Delights shall n… To Living Springs and to Celesti… For change of pleasure not Protec… To Blissfull Harmonys o’erflowing…

A WIT, transported with Inditing… Unpay’d, unprais’d, yet ever Writ… Who, for all Fights and Fav’rite… Had Poems at his Fingers Ends; For new Events was still providin…

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.

Since the Road of Life’s so ill; I, to pass it, use this Skill, My frail Carriage driving home To its latest Stage, the Tomb. Justice first, in Harness strong,

’Tis fit SERENA shou’d be sung. High-born SERENA, Fair and You… Shou’d be of ev’ry Muse and Voice The pleasing, and applauded Choic… But as the Meanest of the Show

Did I, my lines intend for public… How many censures, wou’d their fau… Some wou’d, because such words the… Cry they’re insipid, empty, uncorr… And many, have attain’d, dull and…

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…

Through ev’ry Age some Tyrant Pa… Now Love prevails, and now Ambiti… Reason’s lost Throne, and sov’rei… Tho’ beyond Love’s, Ambition’s E… For who feels Love, Ambition also…

No Cautions of a Matron, Old and… Young Rattlehead to Prudence cou’… But forth the Offspring of her Be… Nor reason gave, but that he wou’d… Much Counsel was, at parting, thr…

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…

See, Phoebus breaking from the wi… See, how the soaring Lark, does w… And through the air, is such a jou… As if she never thought of a retur… Now, to his noon, behold him proud…

LOVE, thou art best of Human Jo… Our chiefest Happiness below; All other Pleasures are but Toys, Musick without Thee is but Noise, And Beauty but an empty Show.