Now kind now coy wth how much chan… You feed my fierce desire As if to more extravagance Youd manage up the fire In vain if this your meaning be

See the star that leads the day Rising shoots a golden ray, To make the shades of darkness go From heaven above and earth below; And warn us early with the sight

Ime Pleasd that Heaven hears my c… Regards me when I pray, Ime pleasd, & in a gratefull… Will worship every day. God heard my voice, & I escap…

From the bleak Beach and broad ex… To lofty Salem, Thought direct th… Mount thy light chariot, move alon… And end thy flight where Hezekiah… How swiftly thought has pass’d fro…

My days have been so wondrous free… The little birds that fly With careless ease from tree to tr… Were but as bless’d as I. Ask gliding waters, if a tear

From that dire æra, bane to Saru… Which broke his schemes and laid h… He talks and writes that Pop’ry w… And we, and he, and all his works… What touch’d himself was almost fa…

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…

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,

Now Crowds more off, retiring tru… On Eccho’s dying in their last re… The notes of fancy seem no longer… But sweetning closes fitt a privat… So when the storms forsake ye seas…

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…

The Father lying in Bed hugging in his left arm a pot of Mony & laying severall pieces out of it before him. the son sitts at his feet in the habit of a souldier taking with his rig...

Rome when she could King Pyrrhus… She scornd a triumph So ignobly g… The treason & ye traitor both… & ever Justly conquerd ever J… But (Like an Affrick) England se…

Let those love now, who never lov’… Let those who always lov’d, now lo… The Spring, the new, the warb’lin… The youthful Season of reviving Y… In Spring the Loves enkindle mutu…

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…

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