Henry Baker

Love's an headstrong wild Desire
To possess what we admire:
Hurrying on without reflecting,
All, that's just, or wise, neglecting.
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Mean time, the Trojan Troops with weeping Eyes,
To dead Misenus pay his Obsequies.
First, from the Ground a lofty Pile they rear,
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The Maids of Britain, in the Times of old,
Were fam'd for Beauty; so have Poets told:
But ne'er could Britain boast so bright a Race
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Fitter for the Bridal--Bed,
Than the cold and silent Grave,
Let Death take thousands in her stead,
But, O You Gods! Florinda save.
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Stay! Fleeting Air!
Thou dear resemblance of my lovely Fair!
Why from me dost thou fly, beloved Shade?
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Why strive You, Flora! thus, to hide
The Kindness You have for me,
And force your self to frown, and chide,
And tell me, You abhor me?
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A POEM. Intended to restrain the Pride of Man.

Thy Works, Eternal Power by whom she sings!
The Muse attempts, and tunes the sounding Strings:
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As Buxom Susan milk'd the brindl'd Cow,
Young Ralph return'd from holding of the Plow:
Behind he catch'd her, and cry'd out, O Sue!
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Damon.
Love's an idle childish Passion,
Only fit for Girls and Boys;
Marriage is a cursed Fashion,
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Health to Anna! Nature's Treasure!
Health to Anna! charming Fair!
Health to Anna! Health and Pleasure,
Health and Pleasure, void of Care!
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I.
Thyrsis. Simple Damon! tell me why
Dost thou not reveal thy anguish,
But in Silence pine and languish?
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Revenge.

Revenge is sweeter much than Life!--'tis true,
So the unthinking say, and the mad Crew
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Soon as the Hills at Distance we behold
Obscure in Mists, and Italy's low Plains,
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Fresh from his Den, the Winter slept away,
Shoots forth the burnish'd Snake in open Day:
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Now all the ready Legions vow to join
Their Chief belov'd, in ev'ry bold Design:
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The Leader Ram, all bright with golden Wool,
Looks back, and wonders at the mighty Bull,
...
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--Souls for ever live:
But often their old Habitations leave,
To dwell in new; which them, a ...
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Oft have I seen, when now the Farmer brought
The Reaper to his yellow Fields, and bound
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Time of itself is Nothing: but from Thought
Receives it's Rise, by lab'ring Fancy wrought
From Things consider'd; while we think on some
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First, Trees by various Propagation grow:
(So Nature has ordain'd: for some unforc'd
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