Martial
For Nothing Lucy never plays ye whore
Thats true—for Lucy ever pays before
poem by Thomas Parnell
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Jac: Faber Stapul: By J: Scaliger.
a Nations praise thine ample glory be
or let the Nation find its praise in thee.
poem by Thomas Parnell
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Scriblerian Epigrams
Our Carys a Delicate Poet; for What?
For having writt? No: but for having writ not.
poem by Thomas Parnell
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A Impromptu Like Martial
Gays gon out early, how comes it to pass?
Not that he has buisness, but thinks that he has
poem by Thomas Parnell
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An Epitaph Desird On One Wheeler
My name is Wheeler here I ly
Because I happend for to dy
life wheeld me in death wheeld me out
how strangely things are wheeld about.
poem by Thomas Parnell
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On Mr Pope Drawing D: Swifts Picture
One authour has anothers head begun
Lett no man say it might be better don
For since they both are Witts Ime very glad
To find he has not drawn him twice as bad.
poem by Thomas Parnell
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Out Of Greek
The things that Mortals love are mortal too
& swiftly transient fleet before the view
Or if with man a longer while they stay
Man swiftly transient fleets himself away.
poem by Thomas Parnell
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To Mistress
Hadst thou but livd before ye Gods were dead
That Heathens ownd ye world might thus have said.
'If any settled seat ye Muses use
'Thou art that seat or art thy self a Muse.
poem by Thomas Parnell
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On The Castle Of Dublin, Anno 1715
This House and Inhabitants both well agree,
And resemble each other as near can be;
One half is decay'd, and in want of a Prop,
The other new built, but not finish'd a-top.
poem by Thomas Parnell
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Untitled Fragment
When Pop'ry s arbitrary yoak
Britannia feard of late
To liberty Religion spoke
To save ye sinking state
Joy of the World the Goddess said
Can no great soul be found
To move for this
Ore
Joy of both worlds the nymph replyd
poem by Thomas Parnell
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