Trust on, and think to-morrow will repay:
To-morrow’s falser than the former day;
Lies worse; and while it says, we shall be blessed
With some new joys, cuts off what we possessed.
Strange cozenage! none would live past years again,
Yet all hope pleasure in what yet remain;
And, from the dregs of life, think to receive
What the first sprightly running could not give.
I’m tired with waiting for this chemic gold,
Which fools us young, and beggars us when old.
Whose arms asserted, and whose sufferings moreConfirmed the cause for which he fought before,Rests here, rewarded by an heavenly prince,For what his earthly could not recompence.Pray, reader, that such times no more appear;Or, if they happen, learn true honour here.Ark of this age’s faith and loyalty,Which, to preserve them, heaven confined in thee.Few subjects could…
When Damon, who designed to pass the dayWith hounds and horns, and chase the flying prey,Rose early from his bed; but soon he foundThe welkin pitched with sullen clouds around,An eastern wind, and dew upon the ground.Thus while he stood, and sighing did surveyThe fields, and curst the ill omens of the day,He saw Menalcas…
True, she was dumb; for nature gazed so long,Pleased with her work, that she forgot her tongue;But, smiling, said—She still shall gain the prize;I only have transferred it to her eyes.Such are thy pictures, Kneller, such thy skill,That nature seems obedient to thy will;Comes out, and meets thy pencil in the draught,Lives there, and wants…
Phillis.Look, look I see—I see my love appear!’Tis he—’Tis he alone;For, like him, there is none:’Tis the dear, dear man, ’tis thee, dear.Amyntas.Hark! the winds war;The foamy waves roar;I see a ship afar:Tossing and tossing, and making to the shore:But what’s that I view,So radiant of hue,St. Hermo, St Hermo, that sits upon the sails?Ah!…
The music of our numbers raise,And tune our voices to thy praise.A messenger from high Olympus cameTo bear the tidings of thy life and name,And told thy sire each prodigyThat Heaven designed to work in thee.Hearing the news, and doubting in surprise,His falt’ring speech in fettered accent dies;But Providence, with happy choice,In thee restored thy…
All in tears, upon the plain,Sighing to himself, and crying,Wretched I, to love in vain!Kiss me, dear, before my dying;Kiss me once, and ease my pain.II.Sighing to himself, and crying,Wretched I, to love in vain!Ever scorning, and denyingTo reward your faithful swain.Kiss me, dear, before my dying;Kiss me once, and ease my pain.III.Ever scorning, and…
