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…

Thyrsis, a young and am’rous Swai… Saw two, the Beauties of the Plai… Who both his Heart subdue: Gay Cælia’s Eyes were dazzling fa… Sabina’s easy Shape and Air

Here Great Erasmus resteth all of… That Death can touch or Monument… Thy Hope and Virtue soard ye loft… Round ye wide world thy Fame &amp… Those meet rewards above and these…

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…

As Bacchus ranging at his leisure… (Io Bacchus! king of pleasure) Charm’d the wide world with drink… And all his thousand airy fancies; Alas! he quite forgot the while

How long ye miserable blind Shall idle dreams engage your mind… How long the passions make their f… At empty shadows of delight? No more in paths of error stray,

Then do not Cloe do not more Boast what success youve found Tis pride to tell your conquests o… Tis cruelty to wound. These are the ills which Beauty b…

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…

Happy the man whose firm resolves… Assisting Grace to burst his sinf… For him the Days with golden minu… Tis his the Land where milk &… Justice & mercy piety & pe…

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…

Gay Bacchus liking B—s wine A noble meal bespoke & for ye guests that were to d… Brought Comus Love & Joke The God near Cupid drew his chair

Beauty rests not in one fix’d Pla… But seems to reign in every Face; ’Tis nothing sure, but Fancy then… In various Forms bewitching Men; Or is it Shape and Colour fram’d,

Oft have I read that Innocence re… Where cooling streams salute ye su… Singing at ease she roves ye field… Or safe with shepheards lys among… But late alas I crossd a country…

Where waving Pines the brows of I… The swain young Paris half supine… Saw the loose Flocks thro’ shrubs… And Piping call’d them to the gla… ’Twas there he met the Message of…

To grace those lines wch next appe… The Pencil shone with more abated… Yet still ye pencil shone, ye line… & awfull Moses stands recorded… Lett his repleat with flames &…