The Sceptics think ’twas long ago Since gods came down incognito To see who were their friends or f… And how our actions fell or rose;

While we to Jove select the holy… Whom apter shall we sing than Jov… The god for ever great, for ever k… Who slew the earthborn race, and m… To heaven’s great 'habitants? Dic…

Hans Carvel, impotent and old, Married a lass of London mould. Handsome? Enough; extremely gay; Loved music, company, and play: High flights she had, and wit at w…

I know that Fortune long has want… And therefore pardon’d when she di… But yet till then it never did app… That, as she wanted eyes, she coul… I begg’d that she would give me le…

Since by ill fate I’m forced away… And snatch’d so soon from those de… Against my will I must obey, And leave those sweet endearing ch… Yet still love on, and never fear

Let 'em Censure: what care I? The Herd of Criticks I defie. Let the Wretches know, I write Regardless of their Grace, or Spi… No, no: the Fair, the Gay, the Y…

Phillis, this pious talk give o’er… And modesty pretend no more, It is too plain an art: Surely you take me for a fool, And would by this prove me so dull

It always has been a thought discr… To know the company you meet; And sure there may be secret dange… In talking much before a stranger. Agreed: what then? Then drink you…

Dear Chloe, how blubber’d is that… Thy cheek all on fire, and thy hai… Prythee quit this caprice; and (as… Let us e’en talk a little like fol… How canst thou presume, thou hast…

Miss Danae, when Fair and Young (As Horace has divinely sung) Could not be kept from Jove’s Emb… By Doors of Steel, and Walls of… The Reason of the Thing is clear;

Que fais tu bergere dans ce beau v… Tu ne songe gueres a me soulager? Tu connois ma flamme, tu vois ma l… Prens belle inhumaine pitie de mon… Dequoy te plains tu malheureux ber…

Let others from the Town retire, And in the fields seek new delight… My Phillis does such joys inspire… No other objects please my sight. In her alone I find whate’er

Cloe beauty has, and wit, And an air that is not common; Every charm in her does meet, Fit to make a handsome woman. But we do not only find

Forbear to ask Me, why I weep; Vext Cloe to her Shepherd said: ’Tis for my Two poor stragling Sh… Perhaps, or for my Squirrel dead. For mind I what You late have wri…

That all from Adam first began, None but ungodly Whiston doubts, And that his son and his son’s son Were all but ploughmen, clowns, an… Each when his rustic pains began