When on my bosom thy bright eyes, Florinda, dart their heavenly beam… I feel not the least love surprise… Yet endless tears flow down in str… There’s nought so beautiful in the…

This day, whate’er the Fates decr… Shall still be kept with joy by me… This day, then, let us not be told That you are sick, and I grown ol… Nor think on our approaching ills,

The Dean would visit Market-hill; Our invitation was but slight; I said—why—Let him if he will, And so I bid Sir Arthur write. His manners would not let him wait…

THE shepherds and the nymphs were… Pleading before the Cyprian Queen… The counsel for the fair began Accusing the false creature, man. The brief with weighty crimes was…

Charming oysters I cry: My masters, come buy, So plump and so fresh, So sweet is their flesh, No Colchester oyster

I with borrow’d silver shine What you see is none of mine. First I show you but a quarter, Like the bow that guards the Tart… Then the half, and then the whole,

I’m up and down, and round about, Yet all the world can’t find me ou… Though hundreds have employ’d thei… They never yet could find my measu… I’m found almost in every garden,

Resolved my gratitude to show, Thrice reverend Dean, for all I o… Too long I have my thanks delay’d… Your favours left too long unpaid; But now, in all our sex’s name,

I will not build on yonder mount; And, should you call me to account… Consulting with myself, I find It was no levity of mind. Whate’er I promised or intended,

All travelers at first incline Where’er they see the fairest sign… And if they find the chambers neat… And like the liquor and the meat, Will call again and recommend

Gently stir and blow the fire, Lay the mutton down to roast, Dress it quickly, I desire, In the dripping put a toast, That I hunger may remove—

When Naboth’s vineyard look’d so… The king cried out, ‘Would this w… And yet no reason could prevail To bring the owner to a sale. Jezebel saw, with haughty pride,

Here lies the Earl of Suffolk’s f… Men call’d him Dicky Pearce; His folly served to make folks lau… When wit and mirth were scarce. Poor Dick, alas! is dead and gone…

All of us in one you’ll find, Bre… Yet among us all no brother Knows one tittle of the other; We in frequent councils are, And our marks of things declare,

APPLES Come buy my fine wares, Plums, apples and pears. A hundred a penny, In conscience too many: