#English
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…
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
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…
Frank carves very ill, yet will pa… He eats more than six, and drinks… Four pipes after dinner he constan… And seasons his whiffs with impert… Yet sighing, he says we must certa…
How old may Phyllis be, you ask, Whose beauty thus all hearts engag… To answer is no easy task; For she has really two ages. Stiff in brocard, and pinch’d in s…
Still, Dorinda, I adore; Think I mean not to deceive you, For I loved you much before, And, alas! now love you more Though I force myself to leave yo…
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…
O Death how thou spoil’st the bes… Said Gabriel, who still as he bur… For the sake of her family married… And thus in an honest collateral l… He still married on till his numbe…
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…
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.
Whilst I am scorch’d with hot des… In vain cold Friendship you retur… Your drops of pity on my fire, Alas! but make it fiercer burn. Ah! would you have the flame suppr…
Fast by the banks of Cam was Coli… (Ye Nymphs, for every guard that… To Wimple’s woody shade his way h… (Flourish those woods, the Muses’… As whilom Colin ancient books had…
THE merchant, to secure his treas… Conveys it in a borrow’d name: Euphelia serves to grace my measur… But Chloe is my real flame. My softest verse, my darling lyre,
Of thy judicious Muse’s sense, Young Hinchinbroke so very proud… That Sacharissa and Hortense She looks henceforth upon as dowdi… Yet she to one must still submit,
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,