All—bounteous Heav’n, Castalio cr… With bended Knees, and lifted Eye… When shall I have the Pow’r to bl… And raise up Merit in Distress? How do our Hearts deceive us here…

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…

Celia, when you oblige again. Subdue that haughty Eye: Rather than Insolence fustain, Who would not wish to die? A grateful Heart will own the Deb…

Ye heedless Fair, who pass the li… In Dress and Scandal, Gallantry… Who thro’ new Scenes of Pleasure… Whilst Life’s important Business… Look here, when guilty Conquests…

An Oak, with spreading Branches c… Beheld an Ivy on the Ground, Expos’d to ev’ry trampling Beast, That roam’d around the dreary Was… The Tree of Jove, in all his Sta…

Once Jupiter, from out the Skies, Beheld a thousand Temples rise; The Goddess Fortune all invok’d, To Jove an Altar seldom smoak’d: The God resolv’d to make Inspecti…

Thou glorious Ruler of the beaute… Have sev’nteen Years so swiftly r… Hast thou so oft the heav’nly Cir… When scarce I thought thy radiant… Never shall I my fleeting Time re…

With Joy your Summons we obey, And come to celebrate this Day. Yet I, alas! despair to please; For you require exalted Lays: And, let me write whate’er I will…

Tho’ the Muse had deny’d me so of… I ventur’d this Day to invoke her… She ask’d what I wanted; I said,… Your Lordship had promis’d to sup… That on an Occasion so much to my…

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…

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…

Ladies, this Entertainment we hav… Has not been rightly suited, I mu… Heroic Virtue should have been di… And Homage to heroic Virtue paid. Low Comedy supplies but mean Deli…

When Ruin threaten’d me of late, With all its ghastly Train; Some Pow’r, in Pity to my Fate, Sent bountiful Germain, Her Soul is mov’d with my Distres…

May each new Year some new Perfec… Till all the Mother in the Daught… May’st Thou her Virtues to the W… And be what Henrietta was before! And when revolving Years mature t…

Dear Jack, whilst you thro’ Fland… Can you forget your Friends at Ho… Say, will your Tutors give you Ti… To write to Hereticks in Rhyme? A Name they brand us with, dear Y…