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 might 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
BAVIUS, 'tis said, a comedy has writ
By the close of the poll, though it strange must appear
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 CRSUS is such a mean malignant elf
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
Edgecumbe! since first I knew to prize the charm
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
Give me a room sixteen feet square
Glaucius, on whose still-mourn'd untimely bier Go, happy Rose\! and thy gay wreath prepare Give me, cries PHIL, the Epigrams you write!
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 smil'd 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 lovers 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 J-Y! why wave in air thy wand around JOHN at my cottage was a constant guest
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 Toм 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 MAVIUS, I am, and have been ever poor
Now Attic wit's o'ercome by Gothic rage
Not the bright meteors, shooting through the air,
Nature and Art have lavish'd every charm
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
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
Oh, that this Chief, for whom our rights we barter
Pleased and contented with my little store Paul built an alms-house, while he liv'd in state 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
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 Toм, who held great contracts from the nation
Should our commerce and peace with the French prove
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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