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Poetical recreations

Barker, Jane

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To Madam JANE BARKER, On Her Incomparable POEMS.

To the Ingenious Mrs. BARKER, On Her Excellent POEMS.

To the Ingenious AUTHOUR, Mrs. JANE BARKER, ON HER POEMS.

To Mrs. JANE BARKER, On Her Ingenious POEMS.

To the Incomparable GALÆCIA, On the Publication of Her POEMS.

An Invitation to my Friends at Cambridge.

To Mr. HILL, on his Verses to the Dutchess of YORK, when she was at Cambridge.

To my Cousin Mr. E. F. on his Excellent PAINTING.

To my Reverend Friend Mr. H****.

To Mr. G. P. my Adopted Brother;

To my Friend EXILLUS,

To Dr. R. S. my indifferent Lover, who complain'd of my Indifferency.

On the DEATH of my Dear Friend and Play-fellow, Mrs E. D. having Dream'd the night before I heard thereof, that I had lost a Pearl.

The Prospect of a LANDSKIP,

Sitting by a Rivulet.

To Sir F. W. presenting him Cowley's first Works.

To Ovid's Heroines in his Epistles.

To my Honourable Unkle Colonel C*** after his Return into the Low-Countries.

On the Apothecary's Filing my Bills amongst the Doctors.

To my Unkind STREPHON.

To my Friend Mr. S. L.

Necessity of Fate.

To my Honoured Friend, Mr. E. S---t.

On my Mother and my Lady W**** who both lay sick at the same time under the Hands of Dr. Paman.

In Commendation of the Female Sex.

To my BROTHER, whilst he was in France.

On the DEATH of my Brother.

Part of the XIX. PSALM.

Coming from---in a Dark Night.

To my Dear Cousin Mrs. M. T.

TO MY Young Lover.

TO MY Young Lover ON HIS VOW.

TO MY Young Lover.

To my Unkind Friend, Little Tom King.

A Second EPISTLE.

A PASTORAL DIALOGUE Betwixt Two Shepherd Boys.

To Mr. C. B. On his Incomparable SINGING.

A SONG in SCIPINA.

A Bachanalian SONG.

An ODE.

Absence for a Time.

Parting with ---

THE Anchorite IN SCIPINA.

Jane, Nan, and Frank, their Farewell to Captain C. going to Sea.

To her Lovers Complaint.

To my Adopted BROTHER, Mr. G. P.

To my Friends against POETRY.

TO THE Importunate ADDRESS OF POETRY.

A Farewell to POETRY, WITH A Long Digression on ANATOMY.

On the DEATH of my Brother.

Resolved never to Versifie more.

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86

An ODE.

I've often thought, but ne'er till now cou'd find
Why Heroes so much strove,
Their Greatness to improve;
'Tis only this, that Women might be kind,
And answer Love with Love.

Fortune no Goddess is, but for their sake;
Alas! she can't be prest,
Nor kiss'd, nor do the rest:
Riches and she, of which Men so much make,
Are only Pimps at best.

One this way stalks, another that to's game;
One's brave, this Hector's high,
This pretends Piety:
But I'm deceiv'd if Woman ben't their aim,
Still Woman's in their Eye.

87

Scepters and Crowns were silly trifling things;
'Twou'd be but poor repast,
To please the sight and tast,
But that they make Men absolutely Kings,
And Kings chuse Queens at last.