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…

If wine and music have the power To ease the sickness of the soul, Let Phoebis every string explore, And Bacchus fill the sprightly bo… Let them their friendly aid employ

Releas’d from the noise of the but… Who, my old friends be thanked, di… And from the soft duns of my landl… From chiding the footmen and watch… From Nell that burn’d milk, and T…

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…

When Bibo thought fit from the wo… As full of Champagne as an egg’s… He waked in the boat, and to Char… He would be row’d back, for he was… Trim the boat and sit quiet, stern…

Thus Kitty, beautiful and young, And wild as colt untamed, Bespoke the fair from whence she s… With little rage inflamed. Inflamed with rage at sad restrain…

Out from the injured canvas, Knel… These lines too faint; the picture… Exalt thy thought, and try thy toi… Dreadful in arms, on Landen’s glo… Place Ormond’s Duke: impendent in…

In vain you tell your parting love… You wish fair winds may waft him o… Alas! what winds can happy prove That bear me far from what I love… Alas! what dangers on the main

Miss Danae, when Fair and Young (As Horace has divinely sung) Could not be kept from Jove’s Emb… By Doors of Steel, and Walls of… The Reason of the Thing is clear;

Once on a time, in sunshine weathe… Falsehood and Truth walk’d out to… The neighbouring woods and lawns t… As opposites will sometimes do: Through many a blooming mead they…

Once I was unconfined and free, Would I had been so still! Enjoying sweetest liberty, And roving at my will. But now, not master of my heart,

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

Democritus, dear droll, revisit ea… And with our follies glut thy heig… Sad Heraclitus, serious wretch, r… In louder grief our greater crimes… Between you both I unconcern’d st…

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…

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…