Perhaps it is not love, said I, That melts my soul when Flavia’s… Where wit and sense like hers agre… One may be pleased, and yet be fre… The beauties of her polish’d mind

Let Sol his annual journeys run, And when the radiant task is done, Confess, through all the globe, 't… To match the charms that Celia sh… And should he boast he once had se…

Auditæ voces, vagitus et ingens, Infantunque animæ flentes in limine primo. Virg.ADVERTISEMENT What particulars in Spenser were imagined most proper for the author’s imitationon this oc...

Ye gentle Nymphs and generous Dam… That rule o’er every British mind… Be sure ye soothe their amorous fl… Be sure your laws are not unkind: For hard it is to wear their bloom

Say, gentle Sleep! that lov’st th… Parent of dreams! thou great Magi… Whence my late vision thus endures… Thus haunts my fancy through the g… The silent moon had scaled the vau…

Why droops this heart with fancied… Why sinks my soul beneath this win… What pensive crowds, by ceaseless… What myriads, wish to be as blesse… What though my roofs, devoid of po…

What village but has sometimes see… The clumsy shape, the frightful mi… Tremendous claws, and shagged hair Of that grim brute yclept a bear? He from his dam the learn’d agree,

—Melius, bunny venerit ipsa, canem… —Virg. Imitation. His wish’d-for presence will impro… Too long a stranger to repose,

Why o’er the verdant banks of Ous… Does yonder Halcyon speed so fast… ’Tis all because she would not los… Her favourite calm, that will not… The sun with azure paints the skie…

From Love, from angry Love’s incl… I pass awhile to Friendship’s equ… Thou, generous Maid! reliev’st my… And cheer’st the victim of another… ’Tis thou, Melissa, thou deserv’s…

If proud Pygmalion quit his cumbr… Funereal pomp the scanty tear supp… Whilst heralds loud, with venal vo… Lo! here the brave and the puissan… When humbler Alcon leaves his dro…

Why will you my passion reprove? Why term it a folly to grieve? Ere I shew you the charms of my l… She is fairer than you can believe… With her mien she enamours the bra…

’Tis said that under distant skies… Nor you the fact deny, What first attracts an Indian’s e… Becomes his deity. Perhaps a lily, or a rose,

I ne’er must tinge my lip with Ce… The pomp of India must I ne’er di… Nor boast the produce of Peruvian… Nor with Italian sounds deceive t… Down yonder brook my crystal bever…

Optima quaeque dies miseris mortal… Prima fugit-… ~Virg. Imitation. Ah! wretched mortals we! - our bri…