Deluded mortals, whom the great Choose for companions t'te-'-t'te; Who at their dinners, en famille, Get leave to sit whene'er you will; Then boasting tell us where you dined,...
Our brethren of England, who love us so dear, And in all they do for us so kindly do mean, (A blessing upon them!) have sent us this year, For the good of our church, a true English dean....
My pedagogue dear, I read with surprise Your long sorry rhymes, which you made on my eyes; As the Dean of St. Patrick's says, earth, seas, and skies! I cannot lie down, but immediately rise,...
Cut the name of the man [1] who his mistress denied, And let the first of it be only applied To join with the prophet[2] who David did chide; Then say what a horse is that runs very fast;[3]...
The Scottish hinds, too poor to house In frosty nights their starving cows, While not a blade of grass or hay Appears from Michaelmas to May, Must let their cattle range in vain...
I like your collyrium, Take my eyes, sir, and clear ye 'um, 'Twill gain you a great reputation; By this you may rise, Like the doctor so wise,[1] Who open'd the eyes of the nation. ...
I'm wealthy and poor, I'm empty and full, I'm humble and proud, I'm witty and dull. I'm foul and yet fair: I'm old, and yet young; I lie with Moll Kerr, And toast Mrs. Long.
As when of old some sorceress threw O'er the moon's face a sable hue, To drive unseen her magic chair, At midnight, through the darken'd air; Wise people, who believed with reason...
Lo! from the top of yonder cliff, that shrouds Its airy head amid the azure clouds, Hangs a huge fragment; destitute of props, Prone on the wave the rocky ruin drops;...
Don't think these few lines which I send, a reproach, From my Muse in a car, to your Muse in a coach. The great god of poems delights in a car, Which makes him so bright that we see him from far;...
With honour thus by Carolina placed, How are these venerable bustoes graced! O queen, with more than regal title crown'd, For love of arts and piety renown'd!...
Dick, thou'rt resolved, as I am told, Some strange arcana to unfold, And with the help of Buckley's[1] pen, To vamp the good old cause again: Which thou (such Burnet's shrewd advice is)...
Make Rundle bishop! fie for shame! An Arian to usurp the name! A bishop in the isle of saints! How will his brethren make complaints! Dare any of the mitred host...
When Cupid did his grandsire Jove entreat To form some Beauty by a new receipt, Jove sent, and found, far in a country scene, Truth, innocence, good nature, look serene:...
All human race would fain be wits, And millions miss for one that hits. Young's universal passion, pride,[1] Was never known to spread so wide. Say, Britain, could you ever boast...
If there be truth in what you sing, Such godlike virtues in the king; A minister[1] so fill'd with zeal And wisdom for the commonweal; If he[2] who in the chair presides, So steadily the senate guides;...