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University of Virginia Library

Amasia, or, The Works of the Muses

A Collection of Poems. In Three Volumes. By Mr John Hopkins

Hopkins, John

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THE MISCELLANY of LOVE.

On Flowers in Amasia's Bosom. In Imitation of Anacreon.

To a Lady asking me a Thousand impertinent Questions, which she would have Answer'd.

To the Lady above-mention'd, saying I gave her a very senseless, impudent Answer.

To the same Lady, saying she would give me a Kiss, if I would tell her what she ask'd me.

To the Lady aforesaid, striking me on the Face with her Fan, for my former Answers.

To a Lady, who ask'd me why I writ on such trifling Occasions.

To a Lady, saying I ought to Marry her, because she Lov'd me.

To the same Loving Lady, telling me, abuse was an ill requital for soft Passion, but she thank'd her Stars, she was but in Jest.

To a Lady asking my Opinion concerning the Writings of the Ancients and Moderns.

To a Lady, making her a present of Straw-Work.

To the Bookseller desiring my Sculpture before my Book.

To a certain Gentleman, you must know, very Censorious on me, for assenting to my Bookseller's desire.

To a Lady, telling me I should Court applause, if I expected to gain it.

To a Lady, saying with a smile, she fear'd I would not perform my Promise.

To a Lady, telling me I writ too fast.

To the same Lady saying—Sure, I never thought, and Commanding me to write on a Feather.

To a Lady saying she imagin'd Poets were all on Fire when they wrote.

To Amasia putting a Paper of my Verses in her Bosom.

To a Lady with a very Charming Dimple in her Chin, occasion'd by a scar, which, she said, an unaccountable distemper had left there.

To a Lady Dancing at a Ball.

To a Lady saying she would Hate me, if I should write Satyr.

To a Gentleman, whose Life was indanger'd by his Endeavouring to aderss a Lady in a Sphere above him.

NEW-YEAR's-DAY, 1699.

Seeing a Lady at a Play call'd A Trip to the Jubilee.

To a Lady, under the Name of Philomela.

To a Lady, who seeing me in a Languishing Sickness, call'd me—Poor Shadow of Love.

To a Lady making me a second present of a Lock of her Hair, after I had in an humour return'd the first.

To a Lady Singing.

To a Lady, holding her Picture in my Hand, and looking on her Face.

POEMS ON Several Occasions.

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To a Lady, holding her Picture in my Hand, and looking on her Face.

Thus, Ixion like, I have maintain'd the chace,
Pursu'd the Goddess, and her Cloud embrace.
O thou, who fly'st with my despairing Heart,
Thou, more a Shadow than thy Picture, art.
Whilst round this Shade my Circling Arms I cast,
Thy Face, which shuns me, holds my Soul as fast.
Here had the fond Narcissus chanc'd to rove,
He and his Shadow too had dy'd for Love.

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Let none attempt thy Picture; 'tis in vain;
Ev'n Nature cannot paint it o'er again.