Did sweeter Sounds adorn my flowi… Than ever Man pronounc’d, or Ange… Had I all Knowledge, Human and D… That Thought can reach, or Scienc… And had I Pow’r to give that Kno…

No - I’ll endure ten thousand dea… Ere any further I’ll comply: Oh! Sir, no man on earth that bre… Had ever yet his hand so high. Oh! take your sword and pierce my…

Written three hundred years since. Be it right or wrong, these men am… On women do complayne; Affyrmynge this, how that it is A labour spent in vaine

When Kneller’s works, of various… Were to fair Venus shown, The Goddess spied in every face Some features of her own. Just so, (and pointing with her ha…

Apollo. Abate, fair fugitive, abate thy sp… Dismiss thy fears, and turn thy be… With kind regard a panting lover v… Less swiftly fly, less swiftly I’…

Behind an unfrequented glade, Where yew and myrtle MIX their s… A widow Turtle pensive sat, And wept her murder’d lover’s fate… The Sparrow chanced that way to w…

Solomon, again seeking happiness, inquires if wealth and greatness can produce it: begins with the magnificence of gardens and buildings; the luxury of music and feasting; and proceeds ...

In sullen Humour one Day Jove Sent Hermes down to Ida’s Grove, Commanding Cupid to deliver His Store of Darts, his total Qu… That Hermes shou’d the Weapons br…

Will Piggot must to Coxwould go, To live, alas! in want, Unless Sir Thomas say, No, no, Th’ allowance is too scant. The gracious knight full well does…

Dulce est desipere in loco. Some Folks are drunk, yet do not… So might not Bacchus give You La… Was it a Muse, O lofty Poet, Or Virgin of St. Cyr, You saw?

Bless’d be the princes who have fo… For pompous names or wide dominion… Since by their error we are taught That happiness is but opinion.

See, whilst Thou weep’st, fair Cl… The World in Sympathy with Thee. The chearful Birds no longer sing… Each drops his Head, and hangs hi… The Clouds have bent their Bosom…

Cloe beauty has, and wit, And an air that is not common; Every charm in her does meet, Fit to make a handsome woman. But we do not only find

The merchant, to secure his treasu… Conveys it in a borrowed name: Euphelia serves to grace my measur… But Cloe is my real flame. My softest verse, my darling lyre

That all from Adam first began, None but ungodly Whiston doubts, And that his son and his son’s son Were all but ploughmen, clowns, an… Each when his rustic pains began