So Ceres, lovely and divine, Eager to see her Proserpine, Blessing the Nations as she pass’… Reach’d the fell Tyrant’s Court a… Around her shot a Gleam of Light,

Where—e’er you go, some Actions s… Which make the Goodness of your M… Hibernia early saw those Seeds of… In your fair Breast, which now sh… Foresaw the Hopes you gave, matur…

Tho’ the Plumb, and the Peach, wi… To present you their Softness, an… Their Aid is in vain; for what ca… But blush, and confess them selves… Where Virtue and Wit with such Q…

Shall for the Man of Ross thy Ly… And sleeps illustrious Thanet yet… Since to distinguish Merit is thy… Let Thanet in thy deathless Prais… Let me, unequal to the Task, exci…

You say ’tis hard to copy well, Where Nature does herself excel. Allow’d—yet still let me advise: Near as you can, to Nature rise; Nor Time, nor Colours will be los…

In vain you shew a happy Nation, The Gospel’s gracious Dispensatio… And plead from thence, to bring up… To early Piety and Truth. To unattentive Ears you preach,

Might I inquire the Reasons of my… Or with my Maker dare expostulate… Did I, in prosp’rous Days, despis… Or drive the friendless Stranger… Was not my Soul pour’d out for th…

Ierne’s now our royal Care: We lately fix’d our Vice—roy ther… How near was she to be undone, Till pious Love inspir’d her Son! What cannot our Vice—gerent do,

O Charlotte, truly pious, early w… The Pleasures sought by others, y… Nor Bath, nor Bath’s Allurements… Unmov’d, you quit them to the Gay… But tho’ nor Health, nor Pleasure…

Fair Innocence, the Muses lovelic… On Acts of Mercy sound thy rising… Let others from frail Beauty hope… Plead thou the Fatherless, and Wi… Fly to your Mother; let each winn…

For give me, fair One, nor resent The Lines to you I lately sent. They seem, as if your Form you pr… And ev’ry other Gift despis’d: When a discerning Eye may find,

And will your Goodness never have… And will you still persist to be m… To meet me still with that engagin… Still open, ardent, gen’rous, and… Still to advise, to aid, to cheer,…

How well these Laymen love to gib… And throw their Jests on Levi’s… Must One be toil’d to Death, they… Whilst other Priests are yawning… Forgetful that He reaps the Gain,

These Plains, so joyous once to m… Now sadly chang’d appear: Hortensia I no more can see, Who patroniz’d me here. Fair Excellence, where—e’er you g…

Your late kind Gift let me restor… For I must never wear it more. My Mother cries, 'What’s here to… ‘A Crimson Velvet Cap for you! ’If to these Heights so soon you…