As in some wealthy, trading Town, Where Riches raise to fure Renown… The Man, with ample Sums in Stor… More than enough, yet wanting more… Bent on Abundance, first secures

I read in your delighted Face, The Nuptial Bands are ty’d: From me congratulate her Grace, Young Portland’s lovely Bride. Tell her, an humble, artless Muse

A wretch, in smoaky Dublin pent, Who rarely sees the Firmament, You graciously invite, to view The Sun’s enliv’ning Rays with yo… To change the Town for flow’ry Me…

I grieve to think that Waller’s b… Waller, so long, so justly, fam’d. Then own your Verses writ in Hast… Or I shall say, you’ve lost your… Perhaps your loyal Heart disdains

See, the bright Sun renews his an… Each Beam re—tinges, and revives… By Years uninjur’d; so may’st tho… Not Time from thee, but thou from… O might the Fates thy vital Threa…

I beg your Scholar you’ll excuse, Who dares no more debase the Muse… My Mother says, If e’er she hears… I write again on worthless Peers, Whether they’re living Lords, or…

Why, lovely Lelia, so depress’d? With wonted Smiles your Eyes ador… Drive gloomy Sorrow from your Bre… And shine out, beauteous, as the… The fair Pendarvis bid me try,

Remote from Strife, from urban Th… Here dwells my Soul amidst domest… No ratling Coaches serious Though… Nor busy prating Fools my Peace d… Wrapt up in all the Sweets of rur…

An Epigram You cry, She’s bred in the Old W… Then into Laughter fall: Were she as just to you, she’d say… You are not bred at all.

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…

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…

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…

Return, brave Youth! suspend thy… Nor, like great Berwick, in the F… Illustrious Exile! thou art gone… Thy Toils, and various Dangers no… The royal Blood, which flow’d in…

Not Persia’s Monarch could, unmov… Those num’rous Hosts, which Time… He wept Misfortunes of a distant… I mourn the Rigour of my instant… The dreaded Hour approaching fast…

I hope, Sir, by this you have fou… In visiting Airy, and seeing his… If Froth can delight you, you’re… And we know it gives Joy on a Bot… Your Friend would be very much me…