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…

Heavy, O Lord, on my thy judgemen… Accursed I am while God rejects m… O’erwhelm’d in darkness and despai… And every place is hell, for God… O Lord, arise, and let thy beams…

Whither would my passion run? Shall I fly her, or pursue her? Losing her I am undone, Yet would not gain her to undo her… Ye tyrants of the human breast,

Whilst I in prison or in court lo… Nor beg thy favour nor deserve thy… In vain malicious Fortune hast th… By taking from my state to quell m… Insulting girl, thy present rage a…

As Nancy at her toilette sat, Admiring this, and blaming that, Tell me, she said, but tell me tru… The nymph who could your heart sub… What sort of charms does she posse…

The amorous youth, whose tender br… Was by his darling Cat possest, Obtain’d of Venus his desire, Howe’er irregular his fire: Nature the power of love obey’d,

What can I say? What Arguments c… My Truth? What Colors can descri… If it’s Excess and Fury be not kn… In what Thy Celia has already don… Thy Infant Flames, whilst yet the…

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…

Wiessen and nature held a long con… If she created or he painted best; With pleasing thought the wondrous… She still form’d fairer, he still… In these seven brethren they conte…

Solomon, again seeking happiness, inquires if wealth and greatness can produce it: begins with the magnificence of gardens and buildings; the luxury of music and feasting; and proceeds ...

Yes, fairest Proof of Beauty’s P… Dear Idol of My panting Heart, Nature points This my fatal Hour: And I have liv’d; and We must par… While now I take my last Adieu,

You, Madam, may, with safety go Decrees of destiny to know; For at your birth kind planets rei… And certain happiness ordain’d: Such charms as yours are only give…

Ovid is the surest guide You can name to show the way To any woman, maid, or bride, Who resolves to go astray.

In vain you tell your parting love… You wish fair winds may waft him o… Alas! what winds can happy prove That bear me far from what I love… Alas! what dangers on the main

In vain, alas! poor Strephon trie… To ease his tortured breast, Since Amoret the cure denies, And makes his pain a jest. Ah! fair one, why to me so coy,