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University of Virginia Library

Lyric Poems

Made in Imitation of the Italians. Of which, many are Translations From other Languages ... By Philip Ayres

Ayres, Philip (1638-1712)

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To Philip Ayres, Esq;

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From Girolamo Preti, out of Italian, on a Race-Horse.

Invites Poets and Historians to write in Cynthia's Praise.

Cynthia on Horse-back.

On the Death of Cynthia's Horse.

On a Fountain, and its Architect.

Describes the place where Cynthia is sporting her self.

His RETIREMENT.

A Character of his Friend, W. B. Esq

On the Picture of Lucretia stabbing her self.

Complains, being hindred the sight of his Nymph.

The Pleas'd Captive.

On a Fair Beggar.

A Defiance, returning to the Place of his past Amours.

From a Drinking Ode of Alcæus

On Cynthia, singing a Recitative Piece of Musick.

Invites his Nymph to his Cottage.

'Tis hard to follow Vertue.

ENDYMION and DIANA.

From an Ode of Horace

Seeing his own Picture, discourses of his Studies, and Fortune.

A Sonnet, of Petrarc,

Another, of Petrarc,

Complains of the Court.

Being retired, complains against the Court.

The Withered Rose.

The Silent Talkers.

'Tis dangerous jesting with LOVE.

The Restless Lover.

The RESOLUTION.

A Hint from the Beginning of the Third Satyr of Juvenal

A Contemplation on Man's Life.

The Nightingale that was drowned.

On a Child sleeping in Cynthia's Lap.

Cure for AFFLICTIONS.

Cynthia sporting.

To his Grace, George Duke of Northumberland.

Love's New Philosophy.

The Vanity of Unwarrantable Notions.

To the NIGHTINGALE.

APOLLO and DAPHNE.

A Sonnet of Sig. Francesco Petrarca,

A Sonnet, of Petrarc,

A Sonnet, of Petrarc,

Finding Cynthia in Pain, and crying.

Cynthia sleeping in a Garden.

Lesbia's Complaint against Thyrsis his INCONSTANCY.

On Lydia distracted.

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The Four Seasons.

The Scholar of his own Pupil.

An EPITAPH, On a Foolish Boaster.

The Danger of the Sea.

An Expostulation with Love.

On the Art of Writing.

To his Ingenious Friend Mr. N. Tate.

Less Security at Sea than on Shore.

Translated from Jovianus Pontanus.

To Cynthia gone into the Countrey.

The TURTLE DOVES.

An Essay towards a Character of His Sacred Majesty King JAMES the II.

An Ode of Anacreon Englished.

Love so as to be belov'd again.

All things should contribute to the Lover's Assistance.

CUPID turn'd Plowman.

Love's Subtilty.

Love makes the best Poets.

The Death of ADONIS.

Commends the SPRING.

To sweet Meat, soure Sauce.

The Young Fowler that mistook his Game.

An Ode of ANACREON.

An Ode of ANACREON.

From an Imperfect Ode of Hybrias the Cretan.

Complains of the Shortness of Life.

Out of Latine from Jovianus Pontanus

His Heart, into a Bird.

In Praise of a Countrey Life.

Mortal Jealousie.

The Innocent Magician; or, A Charm against LOVE.

The happy NIGHTINGALE.

LEANDER drowned.

Cynthia returned from the Country.

A Pæan, or Song of Triumph, translated into a Pindaric; supposed to be of Alcæus, of Sappho, or of Praxilla the Sycionian.

Beauty makes us happy.

To John Dryden Esq; Poet Laureat and Historiographer Royal, his Honoured Friend.

To a Singing BIRD.

The Happy LOVER.

The Pæan of Bacchylides,

An Ode of ANACREON.

The Musical Conqueress.

A Nymph to a Young Shepherd, insensible of LOVE.

Compares the Troubles which he has undergone for Cynthia's Love, to the Labours of Hercules.

The Frailty of Man's Life.

Posidippus the Comic Poet,

Metrodorus the Athenian Philosopher,

From Menander the Athenian,

Simonides Εις των θνητων βιον.

From two Elegies of Mimnermus.

From Anaxandrides the Rhodan Poet.

From Crates the Philosopher, on the same.

The timely MEMENTO.

On Good Friday,

Rhianus the Cretan.

Timocles the Athenian

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56

On a Child sleeping in Cynthia's Lap.

Sleep, Happy Boy, there sleep, and take thy Rest
Free from the Passions which disturb my Brest;
Yet know 'tis Innocence that thee has freed,
And lets thee sleep so quiet on this Bed.

Thy wearied Limbs have sweetly rested here,
If with less Sun, in a more happy Sphere;
Whilst in Despair my Soul afflicted lyes,
And of meer Envy to behold thee, dyes.

Dream, thou enjoy'st more true Felicity,
Than lavish Fortune can bestow on thee;
That thou, amidst such Pretious Gems, art hurl'd,
Are able to enrich th' insatiate World:

That thou, the Phœnix shalt transcend in Fame,
Who sleep'st, and risest, in a Purer Flame;
That thou'rt an Angel, Heav'n's that Lap I view:
Yet all this while, it is no Dream, but true.