Since bearing of a Gentle mind Woud make you perfect be Dear Celia to your self be kind By being so to me Hast to be happy while you can

Grant heav’n that I may chuse my… If you design me worldly Happines… Tis not Honour thats but air Glory has but fancied light Fame as oft speak’s false as right

Phillis I long yr powr have ownd & you still gently swayd Now nature has yr charms dethrond & time your chain decayd Both are wth such perversness curs…

Is virtue something reall here bel… Or but an Idle name & empty s… While on this head I take my thou… Methinks young Freedom answers wt… In his own moralls thus the Spark…

I look & in a moment run The poison thro’ my veins Nor Celia think your self too you… to give me amorous pains When heaven did the Sun create

The things that Mortals love are… & swiftly transient fleet befo… Or if with man a longer while they… Man swiftly transient fleets himse…

Where Creditors their bankrupt de… Where men for want of coin to dura… & are for being wretched made… Where poor W—G—could months abide When all his creditt would not him…

What ancient times (those times we… Have left on long record of woman’… What morals teach it, and what fab… What author wrote it, how that aut… All these I sing. In Greece they…

As Celia with her Sparrow playd She took a glass unseen Her mouth she filld & while he billd She spirts ye liquor in

My name is Wheeler here I ly Because I happend for to dy life wheeld me in death wheeld me… how strangely things are wheeld ab…

Now Crowds more off, retiring tru… On Eccho’s dying in their last re… The notes of fancy seem no longer… But sweetning closes fitt a privat… So when the storms forsake ye seas…

When ore my temples balmy vapours… Whose soft suffusion dims the sink… Gay dreams in troops fantastically… On silent plumes wave down through… Nights sable curtains draw before…

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…

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,

Alas will nothing do, Nothing arrest the arm of Death Must learning, sence, nay virtue t… Must these or. real blessings go like all things else beneath?