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Mary Barber

To Dr. Mead, on His Cape Wine.

Your Wine, by Southern Suns refin’d,
Is a just Emblem of your Mind:
Like You, the gen’rous Juice displays
Its Influence a thousand Ways;
Like You, it raises sinking Hearts,
Inspiring, and rewarding Arts;
Dispels the Spleen, and conquers Pain,
Calls back departing Life again.

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Other works by Mary Barber...
An Hymn to Sleep.

Written when the Author was sick. Somnus, pow’rful Deity, Mortals owe their Bliss to thee. How long shall I thy Absence mour… And when be bless’d in thy Return…
Written for a Gentlewoman in Distress, to Her Grace Adelida, Dutchess of Shrewsbury.

Might I inquire the Reasons of my… Or with my Maker dare expostulate… Did I, in prosp’rous Days, despis… Or drive the friendless Stranger… Was not my Soul pour’d out for th…
An Apology Written for my Son to the Reverend Mr. Sampson,

With Joy your Summons we obey, And come to celebrate this Day. Yet I, alas! despair to please; For you require exalted Lays: And, let me write whate’er I will…
Written for my Son... at His First Putting on Breeches

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,
To the Right Honourable the Lady Elizabeth Brownlow,

Who can the hardest Task refuse, When lovely Lady Betty sues? If her Requests Resistance find, It must be from the Deaf and Blin…
To Mrs. Caesar, at the Speaker’s Lodgings at Bath.

When lately you acquitted me, With Carteret I din’d; And, in Return, (tho’ grievous) t… To Onslow I resign’d. ’Tis wise the happy Hour to seize…
To Mrs. Armine Cartwright, at Bath.

Lovely Armina, o’er her Books rec… Impairs her Body, to improve her… Of Wisdom fond, as others are of… In that Pursuit will sacrifice he… Then, Miser—like, when she has ga…
Conclusion of a Letter to the Rev. Mr. C—.

’Tis Time to conclude; for I make… To leave off all Writing, when Co… He dislikes what I’ve written, an… To send what he calls a poetical… To this I reply’d, You are out of…
Written From Dublin, to a Lady in the Country.

A wretch, in smoaky Dublin pent, Who rarely sees the Firmament, You graciously invite, to view The Sun’s enliv’ning Rays with yo… To change the Town for flow’ry Me…
To Mrs. Barber

See, the bright Sun renews his an… Each Beam re—tinges, and revives… By Years uninjur’d; so may’st tho… Not Time from thee, but thou from… O might the Fates thy vital Threa…
A True Tale

A mother, who vast Pleasure finds In modelling her Childrens Minds; With whom, in exquisite Delight, She passes many a Winter Night; Mingles in ev’ry Play, to find
Written at Camberwell, Near London, in the Study of Mr. Wainwright

Whilst happily I pass my Hours In Camberwell’s delightful Bow’rs… From thence the beauteous Walks s… Or thro’ the fragrant Mazes stray… Or o’er the Study cast my Eye,
To a Gentleman

I hope, Sir, by this you have fou… In visiting Airy, and seeing his… If Froth can delight you, you’re… And we know it gives Joy on a Bot… Your Friend would be very much me…
A Letter to a Friend,

As in some wealthy, trading Town, Where Riches raise to fure Renown… The Man, with ample Sums in Stor… More than enough, yet wanting more… Bent on Abundance, first secures
To Robert Barber Esq; Deputy to the Treasurer’s Remembrancer in the Court of Exchequer

Whilst Gay’s unhappy Fate thy Ea… Thy Heart, indignant, scorns his… Thy gen’rous Heart, which never l… A Friend or to deceive, or to bet… With Honour and Integrity so bles…



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