This day, dear Bec, is thy nativi… Had Fate a luckier one, she’d giv… She chose a thread of greatest len… And doubly twisted it for strength… Nor will be able with her shears

On Britain Europe’s safety lies, Britain is lost if Harley dies: Harley depends upon your skill: Think what you save, or what you k…

Now hardly here and there a hackne… Appearing, show’d the ruddy morn’s… Now Betty from her master’s bed h… And softly stole to discompose her… The slip-shod 'prentice from his m…

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,

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,

FROM Venus born, thy beauty show… But who thy father, no man knows: Nor can the skilful herald trace The founder of thy ancient race; Whether thy temper, full of fire,

From distant regions Fortune send… An odd triumvirate of friends; Where Phoebus pays a scanty stipe… Where never yet a codling ripen’d: Hither the frantic goddess draws

As Rochefoucauld his maxims drew From Nature, I believe ‘em true: They argue no corrupted mind In him; the fault is in mankind. This maxim more than all the rest

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,

Begotten, and born, and dying with… The terror of women, and pleasure… Like the fiction of poets concerni… I’m chiefly unruly when strongest… For silver and gold I don’t troub…

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…

Spite of Dutch friends and Englis… Poor Britain shall have peace at… Holland got towns, and we got blow… But Dunkirk’s ours, we’ll hold it… We have got it in a string,

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—

“His Grace! impossible! what, dea… Of old age too, and in his bed! And could that mighty warrior fall… And so inglorious, after all? Well, since he’s gone, no matter h…

Deprived of root, and branch and r… Yet flowers I bear of every kind: And such is my prolific power, They bloom in less than half an ho… Yet standers-by may plainly see