I will not build on yonder mount; And, should you call me to account… Consulting with myself, I find It was no levity of mind. Whate’er I promised or intended,

LET me thy properties explain: A rotten cabin dropping rain: Chimneys, with scorn rejecting smo… Stools, tables, chairs, and bedste… Here elements have lost their uses…

As when a beauteous nymph decays, We say she’s past her dancing days… So poets lose their feet by time, And can no longer dance in rhyme. Your annual bard had rather chose

The Farmer’s Goose, who in the S… Has fed without Restraint, or Tro… Grown fat with Corn and Sitting s… Can scarce get o’er the Barn-Door… And hardly waddles forth, to cool

All travelers at first incline Where’er they see the fairest sign… And if they find the chambers neat… And like the liquor and the meat, Will call again and recommend

I’m up and down, and round about, Yet all the world can’t find me ou… Though hundreds have employ’d thei… They never yet could find my measu… I’m found almost in every garden,

This day, dear Bec, is thy nativi… Had Fate a luckier one, she’d giv… She chose a thread of greatest len… And doubly twisted it for strength… Nor will be able with her shears

Resolv’d my annual verse to pay, By duty bound, on Stella’s day, Furnish’d with paper, pens, and in… I gravely sat me down to think: I bit my nails, and scratch’d my h…

To their Excellencies the Lords… The humble petition of Frances Ha… Who must starve and die a maid if… Humble sheweth, that I went to wa… was cold;

Aetatis suae fifty-two, A rich Divine began to woo A handsome young imperious girl, Nearly related to an Earl. Her parents and her friends consen…

On Britain Europe’s safety lies, Britain is lost if Harley dies: Harley depends upon your skill: Think what you save, or what you k…

This day, whate’er the Fates decr… Shall still be kept with joy by me… This day, then, let us not be told That you are sick, and I grown ol… Nor think on our approaching ills,

Now hardly here and there a hackne… Appearing, show’d the ruddy morn’s… Now Betty from her master’s bed h… And softly stole to discompose her… The slip-shod 'prentice from his m…

While, Stella, to your lasting pr… The Muse her annual tribute pays, While I assign myself a task Which you expect, but scorn to ask… If I perform this task with pain,

There is a gate, we know full well… That stands 'twixt Heaven, and Ea… Where many for a passage venture, Yet very few are fond to enter: Although ’tis open night and day,