As Bacchus ranging at his leisure… (Io Bacchus! king of pleasure) Charm’d the wide world with drink… And all his thousand airy fancies; Alas! he quite forgot the while

When in the River Cows for Cooln… And Sheep for Breezes seek the lo… A Youth whom Æsop taught that ev… Each Bird and Insect spoke as wel… Walk’d calmly musing in a shaded…

Thus sung the king’€”some angel re… From Eden’s tree to crown the wis… And now thou fairest garden ever m… Broad banks of spices, blossom’d w… O Lebanon! where much I love to d…

How long ye miserable blind Shall idle dreams engage your mind… How long the passions make their f… At empty shadows of delight? No more in paths of error stray,

Strephon & I upon a bank were… Where the gay spring in varied col… & her rich odours lavish natur… When thus the Youth, while this w… Can we but wonder at its maker too…

Mother of plenty, daughter of the… Sweet Peace, the troubl’d world’s… Around thy poet weave thy summer s… Within my fancy spread thy flow’ry… Amongst thy train soft ease and pl…

Thanks to the friend whose happy l… In Derry’s oaten soil frozen air When to the Citty late I bid fare… Beneath my firm resolves my scribl… The Ghost of my departed Muse you…

Oft have I read that Innocence re… Where cooling streams salute ye su… Singing at ease she roves ye field… Or safe with shepheards lys among… But late alas I crossd a country…

Is Viner Dead? and shall each Mu… Silent as Death, and as his Music… Shall he depart without a poet’s… Who oft to Harmony has tun’d thei… Shall he, who knew the Elegance o…

Upon a Bed of humble clay In all her Garments loose A Prostitute my Mother lay To ev’ry Comer’s use. ‘Till one Gallant in heat of love

Holy Jesus! God of Love! Look with pity from above, Shed the precious purple tide From thine hands, thy feet, thy si… Let thy streams of comfort roll,

Hail to the sacred silence of this… Hail to the greens below the green… Oft have I found beneath these sh… A reall in imaginary bliss for they my fancy sooth she’s a c…

Blessed Light of saints on high Who fill the mansions of the sky, Sure defence, whose mercy still Preserves thy subjects here from i… O my Jesus! make me know

Once Pope under Jevais resolvd to… & from a Good Poet Pope turnd… So from a Good Painter Charles J… May turn an ill Poet by living wi… Then Each may perform the true pa…

In Biddy’s Cheeks ye roses blow In Cattys nose they rise From Biddys lips soft accents flo… And streams from Catty’s Eyes The jet that Biddy’s brows displa…