Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow
Or by the lazy Scheldt or wandering Po,
436 lines
Good people all, of every sort,
Give ear unto my song;
32 lines
Good people all, with one accord
Lament for Madam Blaize,
28 lines
When lovely woman stoops to folly,
And finds too late that men betray,
8 lines
SAY, cruel IRIS, pretty rake,
Dear mercenary beauty,
21 lines
AMIDST the clamour of exulting joys,
Which triumph forces from the patriot heart,
13 lines
WHERE the Red Lion flaring o'er the way,
Invites each passing stranger that can pay;
21 lines
YE Muses, pour the pitying tear
For Pollio snatch'd away;
20 lines
Secluded from domestic strife,
104 lines
'Turn, gentle hermit of the dale,
And guide my lonely way,
160 lines
As puffing quacks some caitiff wretch procure
To swear the pill, or drop, has wrought a cure;
34 lines
Let school-masters puzzle their brain,
With grammar, and nonsense, and learning;
28 lines
'Enter' MRS. BULKLEY,
'who curtsies very low as beginning to speak.
133 lines
'This 'is' a poem! This 'is' a copy of verses!'
YOUR mandate I got,
45 lines
'TWAS you, or I, or he, or all together,
'Twas one, both, three of them, they know not whether;
3 lines
('Imitated from the Spanish'.)
SURE 'twas by Providence design'd,
5 lines
A POETICAL EPISTLE TO LORD CLARE
THANKS, my Lord, for your venison, for finer or fatter
130 lines
ADDRESSED TO THE GENTLEMEN REFLECTED ON IN THE ROSCIAD,
A POEM, BY THE AUTHOR
16 lines
AH me! when shall I marry me?
Lovers are plenty; but fail to relieve me:
8 lines
Beside yon straggling fence that skirts the way
With blossom'd furze unprofitably gay,
25 lines, 7 comments
CHASTE are their instincts, faithful is their fire,
No foreign beauty tempts to false desire;
13 lines
DESCRIPTION OF AN AUTHOR'S BEDCHAMBER
22 lines
FOR you, bright fair, the nine address their lays,
And tune my feeble voice to sing thy praise.
13 lines
HERE lies poor Ned Purdon, from misery freed,
Who long was a bookseller's hack;
3 lines
HOLD! Prompter, hold! a word before your nonsense;
I'd speak a word or two, to ease my conscience.
48 lines
IN all my Enna's beauties blest,
Amidst profusion still I pine;
3 lines
IN IMITATION OF DEAN SWIFT
LOGICIANS have but ill defin'd
59 lines
IN THE MANNER OF SWIFT
LONG had I sought in vain to find
70 lines
IN these bold times, when Learning's sons explore
The distant climate and the savage shore;
43 lines
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