At length must Suffolk beauties s… So long renown’d in B-n’s deathle… Thy charms at least, fair Firebra… Some zealous bard to wake the slee… For such thy beauteous mind and lo…

Ere shall they not, who resolute e… Times gloomy backward with judicio… And scanning right the practice of… Shall deem our hoar progenitors un… They to the dome where smoke with…

The snow dissolv’d, no more is see… The fields and woods, behold! are… The changing year renews the plain… The rivers know their banks again; The sprightly nymph and naked grac…

Not the soft sighs of vernal gales… The fragrance of the flowery vales… The murmurs of the crystal rill, The vocal grove, the verdant hill; Not all their charms, though all u…

O Thou! whose power o’er moving w… Whose voice created, and whose wis… On darkling man in pure effulgence… And cheer the clouded mind with li… ’Tis thine alone to calm the pious…

She ceas’d; then godlike Hector a… (His various plumage sporting in t… ‘That post and all the rest shall… But shall I then forsake the unfi… How would the Trojans brand great…

CONDEMN’D to Hope’s delusive m… As on we toil from day to day, By sudden blasts or slow decline Our social comforts drop away. Well tried through many a varying…

This tributary verse receive, my f… Warm with an ardent lover’s fondes… May this returning day for ever fi… Thy form more lovely, more adorn’d… All pains, all cares, may favourin…

When Scaliger, whole years of lab… Beheld his lexicon complete at las… And weary of his task, with wond’r… Saw, from words pil’d on words, a… He curs’d the industry, inertly st…

Of the modern versifications of ancient legendary tales. - An impr… The tender infant, meek and mild, Fell down upon the stone: The nurse took p the squealing chi…

Though grief and fondness in my br… When injured Thales bids the town… Yet still my calmer thoughts his c… I praise the hermit, but regret th… Who now resolves, from vice and L…

When first the peasant, long incli… Forsakes his rural sports and peac… Pleas’d with the scene the smiling… He scorns the verdant meads and fl… Then dances jocund o’er the watery…

Grown old in courts, thou art not… Who keeps the rigid rules of ancie… Well skill’d to soothe a foe with… To sink the fatal precipice before… And then lament his fall with seem…

Behold, my fair, where’er we rove, What dreary prospects round us ris… The naked hill, the leafless grove… The hoary ground, the frowning ski… Nor only through the wasted plain,