Poems on Several Occasions :: :: University of Virginia Library

Poems on Several Occasions

by Samuel Wesley. The Second Edition, with Additions

Wesley, Samuel (1662-1735)

[epigraph]

THE BATTLE OF THE SEXES.

On the Sixth and Eighth Verses of the Fortieth Chapter of Isaiah.

Epitaph on an Infant.

To a Friend in the Country,

From MARTIAL.

The ELECTIONEER.

The DECANTER.

TO Sir HERBERT POWELL, Bart.

A SONG to a Girl of Five Years old.

Epigram, from the Greek.

THE PARISH PRIEST.

To a Friend, upon his Marriage.

Epigram, from the Greek.

The PIG: .

A Letter from a Guardian to a Young Lady

Epitaph on a Gamester and Free-thinker.

SONG.

On Mr. HOBBES.

On the DEATH of Mr. Morgan of Christ-Church, Oxford.

ON The Birth-Day of a CHILD of a Year Old.

On the ROSE:

On the setting up Mr. Butler's Monument Westminster Abbey.

To the Right Honourable the EARL of OXFORD,

An Anacreontick Ode upon a Wedding, After Thirteen Years Courtship.

REFLECTIONS Upon these two Verses of Mr. Oldham: Lord of Myself, accountable to none, But to my Conscience, and my God alone.

An EPIGRAM.

To the MEMORY of the Right Rev. FRANCIS GASTRELL, D.D. Lord Bishop of Chester.

An ANACREONTICK, Alter'd from Herbert.

Against LIFE.

For LIFE.

To the Right Honourable the EARL of OXFORD, On His Birth-Day.

To a Young Gentleman,

The DOG:

THE DESCRIPTIVE:

EPIGRAM On the foregoing Miltonicks.

SNUFF:

Epigram, From the Greek.

On the foregoing Epigram.

An ODE To JAMES OGLETHORPE, Esq. In the Country. A.D. 1728.

To a Friend, on his Marriage.

The MONUMENT.

PROLOGUE Spoken before the Beau's-Stratagem Acted by some young Persons of Quality.

THE PRISONS OPEN'D:

EPIGRAM, On the Death of a PHYSICIAN.

On the Death of Dr. FREIND.

A WEDDING-SONG.

PASTORAL.

A Familiar Epistle, to a Friend.

To a Physician, on his Marriage.

To the Memory of The Reverend Dr. SOUTH.

To a Young Lady, on her Birth-Day, being the First of April.

Epigram, from the Greek.

A PINDARICK ODE TO THE Right Hon. the Earl of Oxford.

Epigram, from the Greek.

The BONDS-MEN:

Advice to One who was about to Write, To avoid the Immoralities of the Antient and Modern Poets.

EPILOGUE to CATO.

On the DEATH of Mrs. MORICE,

ANACREONTICK, From Herbert.

The MASTIFF:

THE December's Day: .

ANACREONTICK, On parting with a little Child.

On the DEATH of the Right Hon. Henrietta Countess of Orrery.

On Philip, the Father of Alexander.

To Kitty, a Poetical Young Lady.

On the Statue of Alexander.

On XERXES.

THE ILIAD in a Nutshell:

NECK or NOTHING:

A PINDARICK ODE, TO THE Right Hon. the Earl of Oxford.

From a Hint in the Minor Poets.

An ODE to James Oglethorpe, Esq.

An EPITAPH.

On the Death of A Friend, a Dissenter from the Ch. of England.

On some blasphemous Discourses on our Saviour's Miracles.

TO A FRIEND, On his being chosen Member of Parliament.

EPIGRAM.

Slander answer'd.

A defence of Slander answer'd.

Upon my Hairs falling.

A Character.

ON Mr. PETER BLUNDELL.

Epilogue to one of Terence's Plays, acted at the first Annual Meeting of Westminster Scholars.

Epilogue spoken at the Westminster-Meeting in the Year. 1732–3.

On the Siege of Saguntum.

On Forms of Prayer.

Upon altering the PSALMS, to apply them to a Christian State.

On HUMILITY.

On the Passion of Our Saviour.

Ode upon Christ's Crucifixion.

An Hymn on Easter-Day.

An Hymn for Sunday.

AN Hymn to GOD the FATHER.

An Hymn to God the Son.

An Hymn to God the Holy-Ghost.

An Hymn to the TRINITY, Three Persons and One God.

A Paraphrase on the Eighth Psalm.

Hezekiah's Thanksgiving for his Recovery from Sickness: Isaiah 38.

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To a Friend in the Country,

Who complained of his Condition, and admired High Spirits in Low Fortunes.

I

This would be still my Wish, could I
Such bitter Curse allow,
Let those I hate have Spirits high,
With Fortunes that are low.

II

But surely when we vapour most,
If angry Fortune frown;
She'll pull, in spite of all our boast,
Our lofty Spirits down.

III

Ev'n I—but I can laugh and sing,
Tho' fetter'd and confin'd;
My mind I may to Fortune bring,
Not Fortune to my Mind.

IV

How seldom is our Good enjoy'd,
Our Ill how hardly born,
When all our Fancies are employ'd
To kick against the Thorn!

V

A lowly Heart and little Eye,
Kind Heaven, on me bestow;
Let those I hate have Spirits high,
With Fortunes that are low.

VI

These Maxims sage and dry, you'll say,
These rigid moral Rules,
Take our superior Sense away,
And sink us into Fools.

VII

Whoe'er can Ease by Folly get,
With justice may despise
The thoughtful unenjoying Wit,
The miserable Wise.

VIII

But sure our selves aright to see,
True Wisdom well may bear:
'Tis nobly great to dare to be
No greater than we are.

IX

Think not I envy Courts and Kings,
Or peevish hate Mankind;
Think not this declaration springs
From Meanness of my Mind.

X

Ev'n I perhaps, if Heav'n would deign
High Place on me to show'r,
As well as any Lord might reign,
As equal to my Pow'r.

XI

My Mind, with weight of Business charg'd,
Of course would bigger grow;
As Rivers length'ning when enlarg'd
Enlarge their Channels too.

XII

'Till then,—a lowly Heart and Eye
Kind Heav'n, on me bestow;
Let those I hate have Spirits high,
With Fortunes that are low.