WEEPING, murmuring, complaining… Lost to every gay delight; MYRA, too sincere for feigning, Fears th’ approaching bridal night… Yet, why impair thy bright perfect…

THIS tomb, inscrib’d to gentle P… May speak our gratitude, but not h… What heart but feels his sweetly-m… That leads to truth through pleasu… Celestial themes confess’d his tun…

‘This ’is’ a poem! This 'is’ a co… YOUR mandate I got, You may all go to pot; Had your senses been right, You’d have sent before night;

Secluded from domestic strife, Jack Book-worm led a college life… A fellowship at twenty-five Made him the happiest man alive; He drank his glass and crack’d his…

Good people all, of every sort, Give ear unto my song; And if you find it wondrous short, It cannot hold you long. In Islington there was a man

O MEMORY, thou fond deceiver, Still importunate and vain, To former joys recurring ever, And turning all the past to pain: Thou, like the world, th’ oppress’…

HOLD! Prompter, hold! a word bef… I’d speak a word or two, to ease m… My pride forbids it ever should be… My heels eclips’d the honours of m… That I found humour in a piebald…

IN these bold times, when Learnin… The distant climate and the savage… When wise Astronomers to India st… And quit for Venus, many a bright… While Botanists, all cold to smil…

When lovely woman stoops to folly, And finds too late that men betray… What charm can soothe her melancho… What art can wash her guilt away? The only art her guilt to cover,

JOHN TROTT was desired by two… To tell them the reason why asses… ‘An’t please you,' quoth John, 'I… Nor dare I pretend to know more t… Howe’er, from this time I shall n…

WHEN lovely woman stoops to foll… And finds too late that men betray… What charm can soothe her melancho… What art can wash her guilt away? The only art her guilt to cover,

‘Turn, gentle hermit of the dale, And guide my lonely way, To where yon taper cheers the vale With hospitable ray. ’For here, forlorn and lost I tre…

INTENDED TO HAVE BEEN… TO CONQUER’ THERE is a place, so Ariosto si… A treasury for lost and missing th… Lost human wits have places assign…

IN THE MANNER OF SWIFT LONG had I sought in vain to fin… A likeness for the scribbling kind… The modern scribbling kind, who wr… In wit, and sense, and nature’s sp…

AH me! when shall I marry me? Lovers are plenty; but fail to rel… He, fond youth, that could carry m… Offers to love, but means to decei… But I will rally, and combat the…