Once on a time, in sunshine weathe… Falsehood and Truth walk’d out to… The neighbouring woods and lawns t… As opposites will sometimes do: Through many a blooming mead they…

Resolve Me, Cloe, what is This: Or forfeit me One precious Kiss. ’Tis the first Off-spring of the… Bears diff’rent Forms in diff’ren… Acknowledg’d fine, where-e’er behe…

The sturdy man, if he in love obta… In open pomp and triumph reigns: The subtle woman, if she should su… Disowns the honour of the deed. Though he for all his boast is for…

Morella, charming without art, And kind without design, Can never lose the smallest part Of such a heart as mine. Obliged a thousand several ways,

VENUS, take my votive glass: Since I am not what I was, What from this day I shall be, Venus, let me never see.

When Cloe’s Picture was to Venus… Surpriz’d, the Goddess took it fo… And what, said She, does this bol… When was I Bathing thus, and Nak… Pleas’d Cupid heard, and check’d…

When famed Varelst this little wo… Flora vouchsafed the growing works… Finding the painter’s science at a… The goddess snatch’d the pencil fr… And finishing the piece, she smili…

Tune. - ‘King John and the Abbot… I sing not old Jason who travell’… To kiss the fair maids and possess… Nor sing I AEneas, who, led by h… Got rid of one wife and went far f…

Prometheus, forming Mr. Day, Carved something like a man in cla… The mortal’s work might well misca… He that does heaven and earth cont… Has only power to form a soul;

When crowding folks, with strange… Were making legs, and begging plac… And some with patents, some with m… Tired out my good Lord Dorset’s s… Sneaking I stood amongst the crew…

Celia and I the other Day Walk’d o’er the Sand-Hills to the… The setting Sun adorn’d the Coast… His Beams entire, his Fierceness… And, on the Surface of the Deep,

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…

To me ’twas given to die; to thee… To live: alas! one moment sets us… Mark! how impartial is the will of…

From publick Noise and factious S… From all the busie Ills of Life, Take me, My Celia, to Thy Breast… And lull my wearied Soul to Rest: For ever, in this humble Cell,

At dead of night, when stars appea… And strong Bootes turns the Bear, When mortals sleep their cares awa… Fatigued with labours of the day, Cupid was knocking at my gate;