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INDEX.

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

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BAVIUS, 'tis said, a comedy has writ

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By the close of the poll, though it strange must appear

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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

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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

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Glaucius, on whose still-mourn'd untimely bier
Go, happy Rose\! 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 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

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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

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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

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NED has his tables not for use, but state

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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

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Of all the miseries that destroy

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On Nature's soft and verdant lap

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O blest with generous warmth!-whose fond regard

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Of the proud Thames, and his commanding stream
Of the tax upon watches poor RICHARD is sick

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Oh, that this Chief, for whom our rights we barter

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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

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Swift as the eagle's wing, Time's flight appears

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Sam brings a second bill, but I object

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Says Toм, who held great contracts from the nation

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Should our commerce and peace with the French prove

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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

III

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