Poems on Several Occasions

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Jacob Tonson, within Grays-Inn Gate next Grays-Inn Lane., 1709 - 328 pages
 

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Page 28 - IN vain you tell your parting lover, You wish fair winds may waft him over. Alas! what winds can happy prove, That bear me far from what I love? Alas! what dangers on the main Can equal those that I sustain, From slighted vows, and cold disdain?
Page 199 - To Me pertains not, She replies, To know or care where CUPID flies ; What are his Haunts, or which his Way ; Where He would dwell, or whither stray : Yet will I never set Thee free : For Harm was meant, and Harm to Me.
Page 267 - And give each future morn a tincture of thy white. Yet tell thy votary, potent queen of love, Henry, my Henry, will he never rove ? Will he be ever kind, and...
Page 262 - I fear from my subjected mind, (If beauty's force to constant love can bind) That years may roll ere in her turn the maid Shall weep the fury of my love decay'd, And weeping follow me, as thou dost now, With idle clamours of a broken vow.
Page 131 - To give this thesis plainer proof, You have to-night beneath your roof A pair of gods (nay, never wonder) : This youth can fly, and I can thunder. I'm Jupiter, and he Mercurius, My page, my son indeed, but spurious. Form then three wishes, you and madam ; And sure, as you already had 'em, The things desir'd in half an hour Shall all be here, and in your power.
Page 233 - That we in vain the fickle sex pursue, Who change the constant lover for the new. Whatever has been writ, whatever said, Of female passion feign'd, or faith decay'd, Henceforth shall in my verse refuted stand, Be said to winds, or writ upon the sand.
Page 235 - The name th' indulgent father doubly lov'd ; For in the child the mother's charms improv'd. Yet as, when little, round his knees she...
Page 32 - If we see right, we see our woes: Then what avails it to have eyes? From ignorance our comfort flows. The only wretched are the wise.
Page 26 - Her own Adonis live in thee, Will lightly her first loss deplore ; Will easily forgive the boar : Her eyes with tears no more will flow ; With jealous rage her breast will glow : And on her tabby rival's face She deep will mark her new disgrace.
Page 285 - This fteel (fo Anna's high behefts ordain), The General faid, unlefs by glorious death Abfolv'd, till conqueft has confirm'd your reign. Returns like thefe our miftrefs bids us make, When from a foreign prince a gift her Britons take.

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