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…

Hans Carvel, impotent and old, Married a lass of London mould. Handsome? Enough; extremely gay; Loved music, company, and play: High flights she had, and wit at w…

Lie Philo untouch’d, on my peacea… Nor take it amiss that so little… I’ve no envy to thee, and some lov… Then why should I answer since fi… Drunk with Helicon’s waters, and…

Morella, charming without art, And kind without design, Can never lose the smallest part Of such a heart as mine. Obliged a thousand several ways,

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…

Celia and I the other Day Walk’d o’er the Sand-Hills to the… The setting Sun adorn’d the Coast… His Beams entire, his Fierceness… And, on the Surface of the Deep,

The sturdy man, if he in love obta… In open pomp and triumph reigns: The subtle woman, if she should su… Disowns the honour of the deed. Though he for all his boast is for…

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,

Phillis, give this humour over, We too long have time abused; I shall turn an errant rover If the favour’s still refused. Faith ’tis nonsense out of measure…

Farewell, Amynta, we must part; The charm has lost its power Which held so fast my captived hea… Until this fatal hour. Hadst thou not thus my love abused…

LORDS, knights, and squires, the…    That wear the fair Miss Mary’s… Were summoned by her high command    To show their passions by their… My pen amongst the rest I took,

Since, Moggy, I mun bid adieu, How can I help despairing? Let cruel Fate us still pursue, There’s nought more worth my carin… ’Twas she alone could calm my soul

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…

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…

The pride of every grove I chose, The violet sweet and lily fair, The dappled pink and blushing rose… To deck my charming Cloe’s hair. At morn the nymph vouchsafed to pl…