Gallants, a bashful poet bids me say, He's come to lose his maidenhead to-day.
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From harmony, from heavenly harmony,
This universal frame began:
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Ask not the cause why sullen spring So long delays her flowers to bear;
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High state and honours to others impart, But give me your heart:
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Fair, sweet, and young, receive a prize Reserved for your victorious eyes:
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Go tell Amynta, gentle swain, I would not die, nor dare complain.
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In pious times, e'er Priest-craft did begin,
Before Polygamy was made a sin;
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AH, how sweet it is to love!
Ah, how gay is young Desire!
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'Twas at the royal feast for Persia won
By Philip's warlike son
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You saw your wife was chaste, yet throughly tried, And, without doubt, you are hugely edified;
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Late Servant to his Majesty, and Organist of the Chapel Royal, and of St. Peter's Westminster I
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1 In thriving arts long time had Holland grown,
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Now with a general peace the world was blest, While ours, a world divided from the rest,
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Our vows are heard betimes, and heaven takes care To grant, before we can conclude the prayer;
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By a dismal cypress lying,
Damon cried, all pale and dying,
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Calm was the even, and clear was the sky,
And the new budding flowers did spring,
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Can life be a blessing,
Or worth the possessing,
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Old as I am, for lady's love unfit, The power of beauty I remember yet,
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Dreams are but interludes which Fancy makes;
When monarch Reason sleeps, this mimic wakes:
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As when some great and gracious monarch dies,
Soft whispers first and mournful rise
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New ministers, when first they get in place, Must have a care to please; and that's our case:
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EPILOGUE TO HENRY II., BY JOHN BANCROFT.
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Thus you the sad catastrophe have seen, Occasioned by a mistress and a queen.
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Like some raw sophister that mounts the pulpit, So trembles a young poet at a full pit.
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Stay, stranger, stay, and drop one tear. She always weeps, who laid him here;
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So fair, so young, so innocent, so sweet, So ripe a judgment, and so rare a wit,
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Ye sacred relics, which your marble keep, Here, undisturbed by wars, in quiet sleep;
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Fair, kind, and true, a treasure each alone, A wife, a mistress, and a friend, in one;
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Below this marble monument is laid All that heaven wants of this celestial maid.
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He who, in impious times, undaunted stood, And 'midst rebellion durst be just and good;
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