Let perjured fair Amynta know What for her sake I undergo; Tell her, for her how I sustain A lingering fever’s wasting pain; Tell her the torments I endure,

Love! inform thy faithful creature How to keep his fair one’s heart; Must it be by truth of nature, Or by poor dissembling art? Tell the secret, show the wonder,

While with labour assiduous due pl… And in one day atone for the busin… In a little Dutch chaise, on a Sa… On my left hand my Horace, a W* o… No memoirs to compose, and no post…

The merchant, to secure his treasu… Conveys it in a borrowed name: Euphelia serves to grace my measur… But Cloe is my real flame. My softest verse, my darling lyre

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…

Ye careful Angels, whom eternal F… Ordains, on Earth and human Acts… Who turn with secret Pow’r this r… And bid predestin’d Empires rise… Your sacred Aid religious Monarch…

By Sylvia if thy charming self be… If friendship be thy virgin vows’… O! let me in Aminta’s praises joi… Hers my esteem shall be, my passio… When for thy head the garland I p…

Come, weep no more, for ’tis in va… Torment not thus your pretty heart… Think, Flavia, we may meet again, As well as that we now must part. You sigh and weep; the gods neglec…

Whate’er thy countrymen have done By law and wit, by sword and gun, In thee is faithfully recited, And all the living world that view Thy work, give thee the praises du…

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,

At Mary’s tomb (sad sacred place!… The Virtues shall their vigils ke… And every Muse and every Grace In solemn state shall ever weep. The future pious mournful fair,

Haste, my Nannette, My lovely maid, Haste to the bower Thy swain has made. For thee alone

Dum studeo fungi fallentis munere… Adfectoque viam sedibus Elysiis Arctoa florens sophia, Samiisque… Discipulis, animas morte carere ca… Has ego corporibus profugas ad sid…

Since we your husband daily see So jealous out of season, Phillis, let you and I agree To make him so with reason. I’m vex’d to think that every nigh…

To the tune of King John and the… Who has e’er been at Paris must n… The fatal retreat of th’ unfortuna… Where honour and justice most oddl… To ease heroes’ pains by a halter…