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…

But shall we take the Muse abroad… To drop her idly on the road, And leave our subject in the middl… As Butler did his Bear and Fiddl… Yet he, consummate master, knew

Phillis, since we have both been k… And of each other had our fill, Tell me what pleasure you can find In forcing Nature 'gainst her wil… ’Tis true, you may, with art and p…

Apollo. Abate, fair fugitive, abate thy sp… Dismiss thy fears, and turn thy be… With kind regard a panting lover v… Less swiftly fly, less swiftly I’…

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…

The bewailing of man’s miseries hath been elegantly and copiously set forth by many, in the writings as well of philosophers as divines; and it is both a pleasant and a profitable conte...

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…

Well, I will never more complain, Or call the Fates unkind; Alas! how fond it is, how vain! But self-conceitedness does reign I nevery mortal mind.

When hungry wolves had trespass’d… And the robb’d shepherd his sad st… ‘Call in Alcides,’ said a crafty… ‘Give him one half and he’ll secur… No, said the shepherd, if the Fat…

When future ages shall with wonder… These glorious lines which Harley… They shall confess that Britain c… A fairer column to the father’s pr…

Dear Cloe, how blubber’d is that… Thy cheek all on fire, and thy hai… Pr’ythee quit this caprice; and (a… Let us e’en talk a little like fol… How can’st thou presume, thou hast…

To John I owed great obligation, But John unhappily thought fit To publish it to all the nation: Sure John and I are more than qui…

Out from the injured canvas, Knel… These lines too faint; the picture… Exalt thy thought, and try thy toi… Dreadful in arms, on Landen’s glo… Place Ormond’s Duke: impendent in…

Tway Mice, full Blythe and Amica… Batten beside Erle Robert’s Tabl… Lies there ne Trap their Necks to… Ne old black Cat their Steps to w… Their Fill they eat of Fowl and…

Dear Howard, from the soft assaul… Poets and painters never are secur… Can I untouch’d the fair one’s pa… Or thou draw beauty, and not feel… To great Appelles when young Ammo…