Occasional Poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

Occasional Poems

Translations, Fables, Tales, &c. By William Somervile

Somerville, William (1675-1742)

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AN ODE, Humbly Inscrib'd to his Grace The Duke of Marlborough,

An ODE, Occasion'd by the Duke of Marlborough's Imbarking for Ostend, An. 1712.

To Mr. Addison,

An Imitation of the Ninth Ode of the Fourth Book of Horace.

To Doctor Mackenzie.

The WIFE.

In Memory of my Dear Friend, The late Reverend Mr. Moore.

EPITAPH

The HIP.

To a LADY,

Presenting to a Lady a White Rose and a Red, on the Tenth of June.

The Bowling-Green.

The Lamentation of David over Saul and Jonathan.

To a young Lady, with the Iliad of Homer translated.

Hudibras and Milton reconciled.

Upon Miranda's leaving the Country.

To Phillis.

To the Right Honourable the Earl of HALIFAX,

A Song for the Lute.

The Coquet.

The Superannuated Lover.

Advice to the Ladies.

ANACREONTICK,

To a Discarded Toast.

The Perjured Mistress.

To a young Lady, who spent the Night in Tears, upon a Report that her Brother was to fight a Duel the next Morning.

To Doctor M--- reading Mathematicks.

From Martial. Epig. 47.

To a Gentleman, who married his Cast Mistress.

A Dainty New BALLAD:

Canidia's Epithalamium.

Hunting-Song.

A Translation of the Tenth Epistle in Horace.

The Miser's Speech:

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The Devil Outwitted:

The Officious Messenger:

The Inquisitive Bridegroom:

Bacchus Triumphant:

The Night-Walker Reclaim'd.

The Happy Disappointment:

A Padlock for the Mouth:

The Wise Builder.

The True Use of the Looking-Glass:

Mahomet Ali Beg: or, The Faithful Minister of State.

The Sweet-scented Miser.

The Incurious Bencher.

The Busy Indolent:

The Yeoman of Kent:

The Happy Lunatick:

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119

To a Discarded Toast.

Celia , confess 'tis all in vain,
To patch the Ruins of thy Face;
Nor of ill-natur'd Time complain,
That robs it of each blooming Grace.

If Love no more shall bend his Bow,
Nor point his Arrows from thine Eye,
If no lace'd Fop, nor feather'd Beau,
Despairing at thy Feet shall die:

Yet still (my Charmer) Wit like thine
Shall triumph over Age and Fate;
Thy setting Beams with Lustre shine,
And rival their Meridian Height.

120

Beauty, fair Flow'r! soon fades away,
And transient are the Joys of Love;
But Wit, and Virtue, ne'er decay,
Ador'd below, and bless'd above.