John Byrom

His tact, too, temper'd him from grave to gay,
And taught him when to be reserved or free.

His tact, too, temper'd him from grave to gay,
And taught him when to be reserved or free.

With more of thanks and less of thought,
I strive to make my matters meet;
To seek read more

With more of thanks and less of thought,
I strive to make my matters meet;
To seek what ancient sages sought,
Physic and food in sour and sweet,
To take what passes in good part,
And keep the hiccups from the heart.

Rose, what is become of thy delicate hue?
And where is the violet's beautiful blue?
Does aught read more

Rose, what is become of thy delicate hue?
And where is the violet's beautiful blue?
Does aught of its sweetness the blossom beguile?
That meadow, those daisies, why do they not smile?

A tigress, robb'd of young, a lioness,
Or other interesting beast of prey,
Are similes at hand read more

A tigress, robb'd of young, a lioness,
Or other interesting beast of prey,
Are similes at hand for the distress
Of ladies who cannot have their own way.

How the devil is it that fresh features
Have such a charm for us poor human creatures?

How the devil is it that fresh features
Have such a charm for us poor human creatures?