Some ages has the stage triumphant… and vice in masquerade debauchd th… In charming numbers, all bewitchin… has the gay syren drest to steal o… like undesigning pleasure she appe…

To praise, and still with just res… A Bard triumphant in immortal bay… The Learn’d to show, the Sensible… Yet still preserve the province of… What life, what vigour must the li…

The Man whose Judgement Joynd wi… The lives of Popes & lives of… Who sung true Pleasure showd ye G… And taught Wild Youth to shun ye… Who wrote all this—Who more than…

To the kind powr who taught me how… Thus with the first of all wch he… Did ancient piety approach the Go… Defended long by prejudice & p… Ive fancyd love a cant its god def…

Propitious Son of God to thee With all my soul I bend my knee, My wish I send my want impart, And dedicate my mind and heart, For as an absent parent’s son

Hail to the sacred silence of this… Hail to the greens below the green… Oft have I found beneath these sh… A reall in imaginary bliss for they my fancy sooth she’s a c…

With Moral tale let Ancient wisdo… Which thus I sing to make ye mode… Strong Neptune once with sage Min… And rising Athens was the Victors… By Neptune Plutus guardian Powr…

Think England what it is to shake… & better use your King, His power raisd the frozen snake, & Must he when he hears it spe… find how the tongue can sting?

Ye Wives who scold fishes sell, Or sing sell your fruit, I want a wondrous thing to tell, Then (if you can) be mute. From some of You one Homer came,

As Pope who gathers mony to trans… With Gay the Shepheard Writer me… Says Pope, your Ecclogues wont co… For Phillips to reprieve him Tons… Indeed the story may be true, says…

Is Viner Dead? and shall each Mu… Silent as Death, and as his Music… Shall he depart without a poet’s… Who oft to Harmony has tun’d thei… Shall he, who knew the Elegance o…

Ye who ye Ld of host adore O praise his name alone O send his praises to ye skyes Untill they reach his throne his throne who’s ever ever blest

Far in a wild, unknown to public v… From youth to age a rev’rend hermi… The moss his bed, the cave his hum… His food the fruits, his drink the… Remote from man, with God he pass…

To friend with fingers quick &… I send this piece of tunefull timb… that, as ’tis said in Orpheus stor… He may teach trees to dance a Bor… Or else in modern Phrase more kna…

Upon a time, and in a place, With Pan Apollo playd, Grave Midas sat to Judge ye case, And Pan ye Victour made. The Rustick to his Fauns withdrew…