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EPIGRAMS and short POEMS.
On a Company of bad Dancers to good
Musick.
HOW ill the motion with the musick suits!
So Orpheus fidled, and so danc'd the brutes.
So Orpheus fidled, and so danc'd the brutes.
EPIGRAM.
GEORGE came to the crown without striking a blow:
Ah, quoth the Pretender, would I could do so!
Ah, quoth the Pretender, would I could do so!
In Answer to the Question,
What is Thought?.
THE hermit's solace in his cell,
The fire that warms the poet's brain,
The lover's heaven, or his hell,
The madman's sport, the wise man's pain.
The fire that warms the poet's brain,
The lover's heaven, or his hell,
The madman's sport, the wise man's pain.
To
