The nymph must lose her female fri… If more admired than she, - But where will fierce contention e… If flowers can disagree? Within the garden’s peaceful scene

’Tis folly all—let me no more be t… Of Parian porticos, and roofs of… Delightful views of nature, dresse… Enchant no longer this indifferent… The Lord of all things, in his hu…

Honor and happiness unite To make the Christian’s name a pr… How fair the scene, how clear the… That fills the remnant of His day… A kingly character He bears,

The Saviour, what a noble flame Was kindled in his breast, When hasting to Jerusalem, He march’d before the rest. Good will to men, and zeal for Go…

I place an offering at thy shrine, From taint and blemish clear, Simple and pure in its design, Of all that I hold dear. I yield thee back thy gifts again,

Breathe from the gentle south, O… And cheer me from the north; Blow on the treasures of thy word, And call the spices forth! I wish, Thou knowest, to be resig…

My halting Muse, that dragg’st by… Thy slow, slow step, in melancholy… And lik’st that pace expressive of… Not less than Diopeia’s sprightli… When in the dance she beats with m…

A needle, small as small can be, In bulk and use surpasses me, Nor is my purchase dear; For little, and almost for nought As many of my kind are bought

A poet’s cat, sedate and grave As poet well could wish to have, Was much addicted to inquire For nooks to which she might retir… And where, secure as mouse in chin…

Holy Lord God! I love Thy truth, Nor dare Thy least commandment sl… Yet pierced by sin the serpent’s t… I mourn the anguish of the bite. But though the poison lurks within…

Grace, triumphant in the throne, Scorns a rival, reigns alone; Come and bow beneath her sway; Cast your idol works away! Works of man, when made his plea,

These are not dew-drops, these are… And tears by Sally shed For absent Robin, who she fears With too much cause, is dead. One morn he came not to her hand

Patron of all those luckless brain… That, to the wrong side leaning, Indite much metre with much pains, And little or no meaning; Ah why, since oceans, rivers, stre…

In this mimic form of a matron in… How plainly the pencil of Denner… The matron herself, in whose old a… Not a trace of decline, what a won… No dimness of eye, and no cheek ha…

Ye sister Pow’rs who o’er the sac… Preside, and, Thou, fair mother o… Mnemosyne, and thou, who in thy gr… Immense reclined at leisure, hast… The Archives and the ord’nances o…