Vast was his soul some favorite ab… Whose bolder pencil made a boy of… A boy he thought him lovers less t… Who barter all things for a crop o… He wisely too his roving pow’r bes…

How justly art when Cælia aids s… Contends her ms nature to excell The slender needles in that hand c… Such forms as hers but of a better… The silk is placd the winding trac…

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…

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

Now leave the Porch, to vision no… Where the next rapture glows with… Now change the time, and change th… The following Seer forewarns a fu… To some retirement, where the Pro…

Alas will nothing do, Nothing arrest the arm of Death Must learning, sence, nay virtue t… Must these or. real blessings go like all things else beneath?

a Nations praise thine ample glory… or let the Nation find its praise…

Phillis I long yr powr have ownd & you still gently swayd Now nature has yr charms dethrond & time your chain decayd Both are wth such perversness curs…

Far in a wild, unknown to public v… From youth to age a rev’rend hermi… The moss his bed, the cave his hum… His food the fruits, his drink the… Remote from man, with God he pass…

I look & in a moment run The poison thro’ my veins Nor Celia think your self too you… to give me amorous pains When heaven did the Sun create

In Phœbus Wit (as Ovid said) Enchanting Beauty woo’d; In Daphne Beauty coily fled, While vainly Wit pursu’d. But when you trace what Ovid writ…

Just when ye dead of night began t… & boding visions senceless dre… Methought a matron stood beside my… Upon her face a wondrous sweetness… & pointed Glorys dressd the mo…

Upon a time, and in a place, With Pan Apollo playd, Grave Midas sat to Judge ye case, And Pan ye Victour made. The Rustick to his Fauns withdrew…

Urg’d by the warmth of Friendship… But more by all the glories of thy… By all those offsprings of thy lea… In judgment solid, as in wit refin… Resolv’d I sing: Tho’ lab’ring up…

Beauty rests not in one fix’d Pla… But seems to reign in every Face; ’Tis nothing sure, but Fancy then… In various Forms bewitching Men; Or is it Shape and Colour fram’d,