Though I, alas! a prisoner be, My trade is prisoners to set free. No slave his lord’s commands obeys With such insinuating ways. My genius piercing, sharp, and bri…

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,

This day (the year I dare not tel… Apollo play’d the midwife’s part; Into the world Corinna fell, And he endued her with his art. But Cupid with a Satyr comes;

Tormented with incessant pains, Can I devise poetic strains? Time was, when I could yearly pay My verse to Stella’s native day: But now unable grown to write,

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…

Ye Commons and Peers, Pray lend me your ears, I’ll sing you a song, (if I can,) How Lewis le Grand Was put to a stand,

Let me thy Properties explain, A rotten Cabin, dropping Rain; Chimnies with Scorn rejecting Smo… Stools, Tables, Chairs, and Bed-… Here Elements have lost their Vse…

Careful Observers may fortel the… (By sure Prognosticks) when to dr… While Rain depends, the pensive C… Her Frolicks, and pursues her Tai… Returning Home at Night, you’ll f…

DERMOT, SHEELAH A Nymph and swain, Sheelah and D… Who wont to weed the court of Gos… While each with stubbed knife remo… That raised between the stones the…

Poor Hall, renown’d for comely ha… Whose hands, perhaps, were not so… Yet had a Jezebel as near; Hall, of small scripture conversat… Yet, howe’er Hungerford’s quotati…

Ah! Strephon, how can you despise Her, who without thy pity dies! To Strephon I have still been tru… And of as noble blood as you; Fair issue of the genial bed,

As when a beauteous nymph decays, We say she’s past her dancing days… So poets lose their feet by time, And can no longer dance in rhyme. Your annual bard had rather chose

There is a gate, we know full well… That stands 'twixt Heaven, and Ea… Where many for a passage venture, Yet very few are fond to enter: Although ’tis open night and day,

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

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,