The Works of Soame Jenyns :: :: University of Virginia Library

The Works of Soame Jenyns

... In Four Volumes. Including Several Pieces Never Before Published. To Which are Prefixed, Short Sketches of the History of the Author's Family, and also of his Life; By Charles Nalson Cole

Jenyns, Soame (1704-1787)

II.

WRITTEN IN THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE EARL OF OXFORD's Library at Wimple, An. 1729.

To a NOSEGAY in Pancharilla's Breast.

AN EPISTLE, Written in the Country, TO THE Right Hon. the Lord Lovelace then in Town.

AN ESSAY ON VIRTUE.

THE MODERN FINE GENTLEMAN.

THE MODERN FINE LADY.

THE FIRST EPISTLE OF THE SECOND BOOK OF HORACE, IMITATED.

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE EARL OF CHESTERFIELD,

TO A LADY IN TOWN,

To a LADY.

To a LADY,

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE LADY MARGARET CAVENDISH HARLEY,

HORACE, BOOK II. Ode XVI. IMITATED.

HORACE, BOOK IV. Ode VIII. IMITATED.

To the Hon. Miss YORKE,

CHLOE TO STREPHON,

A SONG.

THE CHOICE.

To a YOUNG LADY, GOING TO THE WEST INDIES.

CHLOE ANGLING.

CHLOE HUNTING

ON LUCINDA's RECOVERY FROM THE SMALL-POX.

WRITTEN IN MR. LOCKE's ESSAY ON HUMAN UNDERSTANDING.

WRITTEN IN A LADY's VOLUME OF TRAGEDIES.

A TRANSLATION OF SOME LATIN VERSES ON THE CAMERA OBSCURA.

THE TEMPLE OF VENUS.

On a NOSEGAY IN THE COUNTESS OF COVENTRY'S BREAST.

The 'SQUIRE and the PARSON.

GIVEN TO A LADY

BELPHEGOR, A FABLE.

A DIALOGUE Between the Right Hon. HENRY PELHAM and Madam POPULARITY.

A SIMILE.

A PASSAGE IN OSSIAN VERSIFIED.

On seeing the Earl of CHESTERFIELD at a Ball, at Bath.

THE AMERICAN COACHMAN.

AN ODE.

WROTE AT THE COUNTESS OF SALISBURY's ASSEMBLY, 1787.

EPITAPH On Dr. SAMUEL JOHNSON.

ON A LATE EXECRABLE ATTEMPT ON HIS MAJESTY's LIFE, 1786.

II.

VOL. II.

ON THE IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL.

BOOK I.

II.

BOOK II.

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WRITTEN IN A LADY's VOLUME OF TRAGEDIES.

Since thou, renlentless maid, canst daily hear
Thy slave's complaints without one sigh or tear,
Why beats thy breast, or thy bright eyes o'erflow
At these imaginary scenes of woe?
Rather teach these to weep and that to heave,
At real pains themselves to thousands give;
And if such pity to feign'd love is due,
Consider how much more you owe to true.