When Jove lay bless’d in his Alcm… Three nights in one he press’d her… The sun lay set, and conscious nat… To shade her god, and to prolong h… From that auspicious night Alcide…

While faster than his costive brai… Philo’s quick hand in flowing lett… His case appears to me like honest… When he was run away with by his l… Phoebus, give Philo o’er himself…

Dear Cloe, how blubber’d is that… Thy cheek all on fire, and thy hai… Pr’ythee quit this caprice; and (a… Let us e’en talk a little like fol… How can’st thou presume, thou hast…

Tune - 'Lady Isabella’s Tragedy.… Of Nero, tyrant, petty king, Who heretofore did reign In famed Hibernia, I will sing, And in a ditty plain.

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

On his death-bed poor Lubin lies: His spouse is in despair: With frequent sobs, and mutual cri… They both express their care. A different cause, says Parson Sl…

Well, I will never more complain, Or call the Fates unkind; Alas! how fond it is, how vain! But self-conceitedness does reign I nevery mortal mind.

I sent for Ratcliffe, was so ill, That other doctors gave me over, He felt my pulse, prescribed his p… And I was likely to recover. But when the wit began to wheeze,

As after noon, one summer’s day, Venus stood bathing in a river; Cupid a-shooting went that way, New strung his bow, new fill’d his… With skill he chose his sharpest d…

When poets wrote and painters drew As Nature pointed out the view, Ere Gothic forms were known in Gr… To spoil the well-proportion’d pie… And in our verse ere Monkish rhym…

Sphinx was a monster that would ea… Whatever stranger she could get, Unless his ready wit disclosed The subtile riddle she proposed. OEdipus was resolved to go

Resolve Me, Cloe, what is This: Or forfeit me One precious Kiss. ’Tis the first Off-spring of the… Bears diff’rent Forms in diff’ren… Acknowledg’d fine, where-e’er behe…

Hier, l’Amour touche du son Que rendoit ma lire qu’il aime, Me promit pour une chanson, Deux baisers de sa mere mesme. Non, luy dis-je, tu scals mes voeu…

I have no hopes, the Duke he says… In sure and certain hopes - the pr… Of these two learned peers, I pr’… Who is the lying knave, the priest… The Duke he stands an infidel con…