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INDEX.

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25 57 85

Іоо

IOI

IIO

ACCEPT, my friend, this motley lay
Ah! where is now the balmy breath of May
Amid these verdant meads and pleasant groves
Amid retirement's humble bowers
And must we then, ah! must we part
A seat to other men migh: honour give
A stiff-starch'd virgin, of unblemish’d fame
Afraid to leave appearance in the lurch
A pair of wings, all bards confess
Alone, and pensive through deserted vales
Ah! why art thou disconsolate, my soul?
As Jack and Joan have prov'd by both their lives
Among the friends whom you with warmth embrace
As you are one, Sir Harry, prithee tell us
A maid of fair descent should be my bride
Another year!-and no atonement made

I15 129 133 223 225 228 260 265

Bavius, 'tis said, a comedy has writ

108 By the close of the poll, though it strange must appear 114 Blest Spirit! who, in pity to my woes

139 Blush not, Sir John, because you

wed

175 BRAYBROOKE! of honour'd Neville worthy heir 245 Boy! bid in streams the rich Falernian flow

246

41

53

IOI

Cynthia! thou lovely queen of pensive night
Courting the pensive calm that hush'd the air
Calm is her slumber here!-But she shall rise
Cries Dick to NED, “ Attend to my advice
Cease, Madam, cease to praise me thus
CHLOE vows that she never gave Damon a kiss
Cries Tom, who saw some boats from Dover
Could I have known, the sighs I breath'd in rhyme
Cresus is such a mean malignant elf

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Delia! thy youthful bosom to adorn
Dear Boy! thy suff'rings now are o’er
Dick says,-but 'tis a strange report
Divorc'd for being false to William's bed

172
216

Edgecumbe! since first I knew to prize the charm

87

28
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107

Fountain of tears, whose gentle waters rise
From the brow of yon hill what a prospect appears !
From a blue ribbon, dropt in days of yore
Fall’n is thy feudal grandeur!--All is mute
Fortune in vain exhausts her rage
For Peerage, lo! Corruption runs a race
Freedom! dear object of my

fond desires
Far'from the world, and from myself, to fly
Friz me no more I cannot bear
For independence, what a farce to sigh!
Flattery! to me in vain thou com’st forlorn

II2

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Give me a room sixteen feet square
Glaucius, on whose still-mourn'd untimely bier
Go, happy Rosel! and thy gay wreath prepare
Give me, cries Phil, the Epigrams you write!

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Hither direct thy rapid flight
How could my heart of Cupid's pow'r beware
High o'er the vex'd Atlantic, as I stand,
How have I lov'd to woo thee, gentle Spring!
He, at whose voice the furious floods retire,
Henry! these mimic colours faintly strive
Heedless of what the meddling world might say
How ill the Pedestal and Statue suit!
How would this land DEMOCRITus divert
How have I fill'd with sighs the ambient air !
Her, whom I seek, but find not, here below
He, on whose birth the Muse has smild
He errs, who vicious calls your love of pelf
Here lies, late warm with life, now mute and cold
HAL gives us what he calls a splendid treat
If thus you weep, thus droop, and pine with care
I ask'd of Time, for whom these temples rose
In the coy age of chaste Queen Bess,
I bark at the thieves, to the loyers am mute
In our snug close, says CHARLES, the other day
In Gala Dress at court, when Dick is seen
If, after my death, my descendants betray
I have the best French cooks, and choicest wines
If Celia walk the park, frequent the play
I've numerous wants, and nothing to supply them
I write to Am'ret that with love I burn
In writing against me Frank never succeeds
Joyless to view the cheering light of morn
JOANNA! if in pleasure's giddy round
-Y! why wave in air thy wand around
John at my cottage was a constant guest

49

77

105

108

IIO

II2

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223

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248

64

72

104

241

46
61

117
237
256

Let us, my DELIA, while we live
Lyon! of virtuous parents worthy heir
Low at your feet the Pastor Fido lies
Let not my Epigrams to Tom be shewn
Lupercus, when I like a fish have been drinking
Morpheus! thou gentle god of soft repose,
My Delia's heav'nly smiles are sweeter far
Mary, my love can never cease
Madam Crab, like an alderman's lady grown fine
M- to give his naval genius scope,
Mock-turtle, turbot, fowls, and pigeon-pye
Mistress of this poor humble heart of mine
My book, its leaves cut open, back you send
MÆVIUS, I am, and have been ever poor

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Nor Parian stone, nor costly shell
No jealous doubts within me rise
Name me a thing of unsubstantial size
Now Attic wit's o'ercome by Gothic rage
Not the bright meteors, shooting through the air,
Nature and Art have lavish'd
Ned has his tables not for use, but state
No generous motive STEEVENS ever sways
Not only Rome, but Italy admire
Nymph of this Fountain ! not like those of old

every charm

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20

On the Steyne, the other day
Of all the miseries that destroy
On Nature's soft and verdant lap
O blest with generous warmth!—whose fond regard
Of the proud Thames, and his commanding stream
Of the tax upon watches poor RICHARD is sick

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I 20

215

Oh, that this Chief, for whom our rights we barter
Of Attic taste wouldst thou delight the ear
Of the hundred you ask'd me to lend
On this rich vase emboss'd, how clcar

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Pray does the sex itself adorn
Poor Will, who in jewels was never outvy'd
P-, methinks we well may wonder
Pirate one Sheet! no damages ensue
Pleased and contented with

my
Paul built an alms-house, while he liv'd in state

III

little store

240

243

79
II3

Redeemer of the World! ere time began
Reader, my fate 'twere folly to deplore
Revenge and Rapine mark'd the steps he trod
Returning zephyr the soft season brings
Robb’d of two hundred pounds you fretful say

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Sceptics, in vain your system ye advance
So spake the Apostle Paul the soothing words
Sweet Nightingale, from yonder spray
She whom I lov'd from early youth
Stay, passenger, and shed the pensive tear
Swift as the eagle's wing, Time's flight appears
Sam brings a second bill, but I object
Says Tom, who held great contracts from the nation
Should our commerce and peace with the French prove

precarious
So fair a flow'r was never born!
Sam says, the Ancients should be read
So may your trees, whether for shade or shew
Since the gay muse you court with keen delight
Safe from the Syren's tuneful air

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