Within a Meadow, on the way, A sordid Churl resolv’d to stay, And give his Horse a Bite; Purloining so his Neighbours Hay, That at the Inn he might not pay For Forage all
Tis true of courage I’m no mistress No Boadicia nor Thalestriss Nor shall I e’er be famed hereafter For such a Soul as Cato’s Daughter Nor active valour nor enduring Nor leading troops nor
A Female Friend advis’d a Swain (Whose Heart she wish’d at ease) Make Love thy Pleasure, not thy Pain, Nor let it deeply seize. Beauty, where Vanities abound, No serious Passion claims; Then, ’till
What art thou, SPLEEN, which ev’ry thing dost ape? Thou Proteus to abus’d Mankind, Who never yet thy real Cause cou’d find, Or fix thee to remain in one continued Shape. Still varying thy
POOR River, now thou’rt almost dry, What Nymph, or Swain, will near thee lie? Since brought, alas! to sad Decay, What Flocks, or Herds, will near thee stay? The Swans, that sought thee in
NOW spent the alter’d King, in am’rous Cares, The Hours of sacred Hymns and solemn Pray’rs: In vain the Alter waits his slow returns, Where unattended Incense faintly burns: In vain the whisp’ring Priests
FOR Socrates a House was built, Of but inferiour Size; Not highly Arch’d, nor Carv’d, nor Gilt; The Man, ’tis said, was Wise. But Mob despis’d the little Cell, That struck them with no
Would we attain the happiest State, That is design’d us here; No Joy a Rapture must create, No Grief beget Despair. No Injury fierce Anger raise, No Honour tempt to Pride; No vain Desires
A Greedy Heir long waited to fulfill, As his Executor, a Kinsman’s Will; And to himself his Age repeated o’er, To his Infirmities still adding more; And nicely kept th’ Account of the expected
How gayly is at first begun Our Life’s uncertain Race! Whilst yet that sprightly Morning Sun, With which we just set out to run Enlightens all the Place. How smiling the World’s Prospect lies
Eph. What Friendship is, ARDELIA shew. Ard. ‘Tis to love, as I love You. Eph. This Account, so short (tho’ kind) Suits not my enquiring Mind. Therefore farther now repeat; What is Friendship when
NO better Dog e’er kept his Master’s Door Than honest Snarl, who spar’d nor Rich nor Poor; But gave the Alarm, when any one drew nigh, Nor let pretended Friends pass fearless by: For
Observe this Piece, which to our Sight does bring The fittest Posture for the Swedish King; (Encompass’d, as we think, with Armies round, Tho’ not express’d within this narrow Bound) Who, whilst his warlike
Silvia, let’s from the Crowd retire; For, What to you and me (Who but each other do desire) Is all that here we see? Apart we’ll live, tho’ not alone; For, who alone can
Enter, as in the Temple of Jerusalem, ATHALIA, MATHAN, ABNER [Mathan] WHY, to our Wonder, in this Place is seen, Thus discompos’d, and alter’d, Juda’s Queen? May we demand, what Terrors seize your Breast,