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Mary Barber

To The Right Honourable The Lady Elizabeth Brownlow,

Who can the hardest Task refuse,
When lovely Lady Betty sues?
If her Requests Resistance find,
It must be from the Deaf and Blind.

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An Epigram. Since Milo Rallies Sacred Writ

Since Milo rallies sacred Writ,
To win the Title of a Wit;
'Tis pity but he shou'd obtain it,
Who bravely pays his Soul to gain it.

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To Novella

An Epigram
You cry, She's bred in the Old Way;
Then into Laughter fall:
Were she as just to you, she'd say,
You are not bred at all.

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Written At Dr. Mead's House In Ormond--Street, To Mrs. Mead.

Books, Pictures, Statues, here we find,
And each excelling in their Kind.
Mead's Taste in ev'ry Thing we view;
But chiefly in his Choice of You.

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Advice To The Ladies At Bath. Written By A Lady.

Ye heedless Fair, who trifle Life away,
Let either Brownlow set your Notions right:
Be, like the Daughter, innocently gay;
Or, like the Mother, prudent and polite.

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To Mrs. Anne Donnellan, With The Fourth Essay On Man

Dear Philomela, oft you condescend,
With Notes seraphic, to transport your Friend:
Then in Return, let Verse your Soul rejoice,
Wise, as your Converse, rapt'rous, as your Voice.

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To Mrs.

Celia, when you oblige again.
Subdue that haughty Eye:
Rather than Insolence fustain,
Who would not wish to die?
A grateful Heart will own the Debt,
But, O! must feel it with Regret.

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On Imagining A Friend Had Treated The Author With Indifference.

Go, Jealousy, Tormentress dire;
On Lovers only seize:
In Love, like Winds, you fan the Fire,
And make it higher blaze.

But Friendship's calmer, purer Joy
Thou dost not heighten, but destroy.

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The Recantation: To The Same Lady

For give me, fair One, nor resent
The Lines to you I lately sent.
They seem, as if your Form you priz'd,
And ev'ry other Gift despis'd:
When a discerning Eye may find,
Your greatest Beauty's in your Mind.

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Spoken Extempore, To The Right Honourable The Lady Barbara North

This Present from a lovely Dame,
Fair and unsully'd, as her Fame,
Shall to Hibernia be convey'd,
Where once, rever'd, her Father sway'd;
And taught the drooping Arts to smile,
And with his Virtues bless'd our Isle.

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