With no poetic ardour fir’d I press the bed where Wilmot lay; That here he lov’d, or here expir’… Begets no numbers grave or gay. Beneath thy roof, Argyle, are bre…
Know then thyself, presume not Go… The proper study of mankind is man… Plac’d on this isthmus of a middle… A being darkly wise, and rudely gr… With too much knowledge for the sc…
While Celia’s Tears make sorrow b… Proud Grief sits swelling in her… The Sun, next those the fairest l… Thus from the Ocean first did ris… And thus thro’ Mists we see the S…
Yet, yet a moment, one dim ray of… Indulge, dread Chaos, and eternal… Of darkness visible so much be len… As half to show, half veil, the de… Ye pow’rs! whose mysteries restor’…
Oh be thou blest with all that He… Long Health, long Youth, long Pl… Not with those Toys the female wo… Riches that vex, and Vanities tha… With added years if Life bring no…
With scornful mien, and various to… Fantastic vain, and insolently fai… Grandeur intoxicates her giddy bra… She looks ambition, and she moves… Far other carriage grac’d her virg…
As some fond virgin, whom her moth… Drags from the town to wholesome c… Just when she learns to roll a mel… And hear a spark, yet think no dan… From the dear man unwillingly she…
Thou art my God, sole object of m… Not for the hope of endless joys a… Nor for the fear of endless pains… Which they who love thee not must… For me, and such as me, thou deign…
Ye nymphs of Solyma! begin the so… To heavenly themes sublimer strain… The mossy fountains, and the sylva… The dreams of Pindus, and the Aon… Delight no more —O thou, my voice…
All hail, once pleasing, once insp… Scene of my youthful loves and hap… Where the kind Muses met me as I… And gently press’d my hand, and sa… Take all thou e’er shalt have, a c…
She said: the pitying audience mel… But Fate and Jove had stopp’d the… In vain Thalestris with reproach… For who can move when fair Belind… Not half so fix’d the Trojan coul…
Awake, my St. John! leave all mea… To low ambition, and the pride of… Let us (since life can little more… Than just to look about us and to… Expatiate free o’er all this scene…
‘Sir, I admit your general rule, That every poet is a fool. But you yourself may serve to show… Every fool is not a poet.’
But our Great Turks in wit must r… And ill can bear a Brother on the… II Wit is like faith by such warm Fo… Who to be saved by one, must damn…
When simple Macer, now of high re… First fought a Poet’s Fortune in… 'Twas all th’ Ambition his high s… To wear red stockings, and to dine… Some Ends of verse his Betters mi…