To the Right Hon. the Lady Carte… Weary’d with long Attendance on t… You, Madam, are the Wretch’s last… Eternal King! if here in vain I c… Where shall the Fatherless and Wi…

Sincerity, what are thy Views; No more my Breast attend. By thee, alas! we often lose, But seldom gain a Friend. No more with dang’rous Zeal presu…

Who can the hardest Task refuse, When lovely Lady Betty sues? If her Requests Resistance find, It must be from the Deaf and Blin…

Say, Worsdcal, where you learn’d… To paint the Goodness of the Hear… The flatt’ring Teint let others p… You call the Soul into the Eyes: There we the various Virtues trac…

When you command, the Muse obeys, Proud to present her humble Lays. Of writing I’ll no more repent, Nor think my Time unwisely spent; If Verse the Happiness procures

Start not, nor tremble at the Sig… It comes not written from the Rea… ’Tis true, you see, your once—lov’… Thence may conclude from Heav’n s… Conscious perhaps of your celestia…

Dear Philomela, oft you condescen… With Notes seraphic, to transport… Then in Return, let Verse your S… Wise, as your Converse, rapt’rous…

’Tis theirs, who but to please asp… On Fiction to employ the Lyre; Make Gods and Goddesses display The Splendor of the Nuptial Day. To paint thee at the hallow’d Shr…

As thro’ this sylvan Scene I stra… I saw and lov’d the Iv’ry Maid: And hearing that she fled from Ma… I begg’d this Form of mighty Pan; To try, by ev’ry winning Art,

Once Juno’s Bird (as Authors say… Was seiz’d on by some Birds of Pr… They pluck’d his Feathers, one by… Till all his useful Plumes were g… Stript him of ev’ry thing beside;

WHAT is it our mamma’s bewitches… To plague us little boys with bree… To tyrant Custom we must yield, Whilst vanquish’d Reason flies th… Our legs must suffer by ligation,

I read in your delighted Face, The Nuptial Bands are ty’d: From me congratulate her Grace, Young Portland’s lovely Bride. Tell her, an humble, artless Muse

Since Milo rallies sacred Writ, To win the Title of a Wit; ’Tis pity but he shou’d obtain it, Who bravely pays his Soul to gain…

These Plains, so joyous once to m… Now sadly chang’d appear: Hortensia I no more can see, Who patroniz’d me here. Fair Excellence, where—e’er you g…

An Epigram You cry, She’s bred in the Old W… Then into Laughter fall: Were she as just to you, she’d say… You are not bred at all.