To you who live in chill degree, As map informs, of fifty-three, And do not much for cold atone, By bringing thither fifty-one, Methinks all climes should be alike, From tropic e'en to pole arctique;...
Ask not the cause, why sullen Spring So long delays her flowers to bear; Why warbling birds forget to sing, And winter storms invert the year: Chloris is gone, and fate provides...
Most modern wits such monstrous fools have shown, They seem not of Heaven's making, but their own. Those nauseous harlequins in farce may pass; But there goes more to a substantial ass:...
They who have best succeeded on the stage, Have still conform'd their genius to their age. Thus Jonson did mechanic humour show, When men were dull, and conversation low....
Of all dramatic writing, comic wit, As 'tis the best, so 'tis most hard to hit, For it lies all in level to the eye, Where all may judge, and each defect may spy. Humour is that which every day we meet,...
He who could view the book of destiny, And read whatever there was writ of thee, O charming youth, in the first opening page, So many graces in so green an age, Such wit, such modesty, such strength of mind,...
If yet there be a few that take delight In that which reasonable men should write; To them alone we dedicate this night. The rest may satisfy their curious itch With city-gazettes, or some factious speech,...
Wherever I am, and whatever I do, My Phyllis is still in my mind; When angry, I mean not to Phyllis to go, My feet, of themselves, the way find: Unknown to myself I am just at her door,...
A parish priest was of the pilgrim train; An awful, reverend, and religious man. His eyes diffused a venerable grace, And charity itself was in his face. Rich was his soul, though his attire was poor;...
Auspicious poet, wert thou not my friend, How could I envy, what I must commend! But since 'tis nature's law, in love and wit, That youth should reign, and withering age submit,...
Once I beheld the fairest of her kind, And still the sweet idea charms my mind: True, she was dumb; for Nature gazed so long, Pleased with her work, that she forgot her tongue;...
Of gentle blood, his parents' only treasure, Their lasting sorrow, and their vanish'd pleasure, Adorn'd with features, virtues, wit, and grace, A large provision for so short a race;...