Servum si potes, Ole, non habere, Et regem potes, Ole, non habere.… ('If thou from Fortune dost no se… Believe me thou no master need’st… I ask’d a friend, amidst the thron…

Through the dim veil of evening’s… Near some lone fane, or yew’s fune… What dreary forms has magic Fear… What shrouded spectres Superstiti… But you, secure, shall pour your s…

Caetera per terras omnes animalia,… Imitation. All animals beside, o’er all the e… On distant heaths, beneath autumna… Pensive I saw the circling shade…

While blooming Spring descends fr… By whose mild influence instant wo… From whose soft breath Elysian be… The sweets of Hagley, or the prid… Will Lyttleton the rural landscap…

AEole! namque tibi divûm Pater a… Et mulcere dedit mentes et tollere… Imitation. O AEolus! to thee the Sire supre… Of gods and men the mighty power b…

I told my nymph, I told her true, My fields were small, my flocks we… While faltering accents spoke my f… That Flavia might not prove since… Of crops destroyed by vernal cold,

So dear my Lucio is to me, So well our minds and tempers blen… That seasons may for ever flee, And ne’er divide me from my friend… But let the favour’d boy forbear

How pleas’d within my native bower… Erewhile I pass’d the day! Was ever scene so deck’d with flow… Were ever flowers so gay? How sweetly smil’d the hill, the v…

He Takes Occasion, From the Fate… When Beauty mourns, by Fate’s inj… Hid from the cheerful glance of hu… When Nature’s pride inglorious wa… Hard is that heart which checks th…

Madam,- Though rude the draughts, though a… From one unskill’d in verse, or in… Oft has good-nature been the fool’… And honest meaning gilded want of…

No more the Muse obtrudes her thi… No more with awkward fallacy compl… How every fervour from my bosom fl… And Reason in her lonesome palace… Ere the chill winter of our days a…

’Twas in a land of learning, The Muse’s favourite city, Such pranks of late Were play’d by a rat, As-tempt one to be witty.

When Celia, love’s eternal foe, To rich old Gomez first was marri… And angry Cupid came to know His shafts had err’d, his bow misc… He sigh’d, he wept, he hung his he…

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

Arbusta humilesque myricæ. Virg. Ye shepherds so chearful and gay, Whose flocks never carelessly roam… Should Corydon’s happen to stray, Oh! call the poor wanderers home.