At Mary’s tomb (sad sacred place!… The Virtues shall their vigils ke… And every Muse and every Grace In solemn state shall ever weep. The future pious mournful fair,

While with labour assiduous due pl… And in one day atone for the busin… In a little Dutch chaise, on a Sa… On my left hand my Horace, a W* o… No memoirs to compose, and no post…

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…

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…

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

Sly Merry Andrew, the last South… (At Bartholomew he did not much a… So peevish was the dict of the Ma… At Southwark, therefore, as his t… To please our masters, and his fri…

Whither would my passion run? Shall I fly her, or pursue her? Losing her I am undone, Yet would not gain her to undo her… Ye tyrants of the human breast,

Sure Cloe Just, and Cloe Fair Deserves to be Your only Care: But when You and She to-day Far into the Wood did stray, And I happen’d to pass by;

What charms you have, from what hi… Have been the pleasing subjects of… Unskill’d and young, yet something… Of Ca’ndish’ beauty, join’d to Ce… But when you please to show the la…

MY noble, lovely, little Peggy, Let this my First Epistle beg ye, At dawn of morn, and close of even… To lift your heart and hands to H… In double duty say your prayer:

Que fais tu bergere dans ce beau v… Tu ne songe gueres a me soulager? Tu connois ma flamme, tu vois ma l… Prens belle inhumaine pitie de mon… Dequoy te plains tu malheureux ber…

Full oft doth Matt. with Topaz di… Eateth baked meats, drinketh Gree… But Topas his own worke rehearset… And Matt. mote praise what Topaz… Now shure as priest did e’er shriv…

Honour, I say, or honest Fame, I mean the substance, not the name… (Not that light heap of tawdry war… Ermin, Coronets, and Stars, Which often is by merit sought,

Spare, generous victor, spare the… Who did unequal war pursue; That more than triumph he might ha… In being overcome by you. In the dispute, whate’er I said,

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…