An EPISTLE from Alexander to Hephaestion In His Sickness
WITH such a Pulse, with such disorder’d Veins, Such lab’ring Breath, as thy Disease constrains; With failing Eyes, that scarce the Light endure, (So long unclos’d, they’ve watch’d thy doubtful Cure) To his Hephaestion
Song
The nymph in vain bestows her pains That seeks to thrive where Bacchus reigns; In vain are charms, or smiles, or frowns, All images his torrent drowns. Flames to the head he may impart,
On The Hurricane
You have obey’d, you WINDS, that must fulfill The Great Disposer’s righteous Will; Throughout the Land, unlimited you flew, Nor sought, as heretofore, with Friendly Aid Only, new Motion to bestow Upon the sluggish
The Critick and the Writer of Fables
Weary, at last, of the Pindarick way, Thro’ which advent’rously the Muse wou’d stray; To Fable I descend with soft Delight, Pleas’d to Translate, or easily Endite: Whilst aery Fictions hastily repair To fill
Ardelia to Melancholy
At last, my old inveterate foe, No opposition shalt thou know. Since I by struggling, can obtain Nothing, but encrease of pain, I will att last, no more do soe, Tho’ I confesse, I
To Edward Jenkinson, Esq
Fair Youth! who wish the Wars may cease, We own you better form’d for Peace. Nor Pallas you, nor Mars shou’d follow; Your Gods are Cupid and Apollo; Who give sweet Looks, and early
An EPISTLE From A Gentleman To Madam Deshouliers
URANIA, whom the Town admires, Whose Wit and Beauty share our Praise; This fair URANIA who inspires A thousand Joys a thousand ways, She, who cou’d with a Glance convey Favours, that had my