Annotated Chronology: Anne Finch

Index of First Lines

- A -
Absence in Love effects the same
Absence in love effects the same
Ah! fare thee weel dear Sutton Toon
Alas, I walk not out, but still I meet
Alleluja Sollemn Strain
All flie th'unhappy, and I all wou'd flie
All your sighs, to air are turning [Song from Triumphs/Queen Cypress]
[First line unknown.] Title: An Answer to Mirtilla
Appollo, as lately a Circuit he made
A Quack, to no true Skill in Physick bred
As Merc'ry travell'd thro' a Wood,
As great a character the Poet draws
As Servile Preachers, who Preferment wait
At last, my old invetrate foe
The audience seems to night so very kind
- B -
Bachus, to thee that turn'st the brain
Beaumont in the beginning of a Coppy of Verses . . .
Begin, our Nation's Pleasure and Reproach!
Blest be the Man (his memory at least)
Blest is the Soul which loos'd from sordid Earth
A Brazen Pot, by scouring vext
By love pursu'd, in vain I flye
By neer resemblance see that Bird betray'd
By strange Events to Sollitude betray'd
- C -
Call Delia Whore, Friends guard & Foes infest
Cease Mirtilla & c.
A Citizen of mighty Pelf
Clarilla, where's the Queen? [Triumphs/Queen Cypress]
Cosmelia's charmes inspire my Lays
Cou'd Rivers weep (as somtimes Poets dream)
Cou'd our first Father at his toilsome Plough
Cou'd we stop the time that's flying
Cupid e're depriv'd of sight
CUPID, one day ask'd his Mother
- D -
Damon, whilst thus, wee nightly watches keep
Daphnis no more your wishe repeat
Dark was the shade where only cou'd be seen
Did I my Lines intend for publick view
Disarm'd with so genteel an air
Dorinda since you must decay
Double Allegiance, Lord, to thee I owe
- E -
An Epilogue, after a tedious Play [Aristomenes]
Exert thy voyce, sweet Harbinger of Spring
- F -
Fair Tree, for thy delightfull shade,
FAir youth! who wish the Wars may cease,
FArewel, lov'd Youth! since 'twas the Will of Heaven
Far, from Societies where I have place
Fate, 'till the Day was Ours, wou'd not dispense
A Female Friend advis'd a Swain
A Female, to a Drunkard marry'd
A Fond Athenian Mother brought
For can our correspondence please
FOR He, that made, must new create us
FOR Socrates a House was built
Fortune well-pictur'd on a rolling Globe
For the soft Joys of Love no longer last
'Friend! if I'm late, excuse the failing
From me who whileom sung the Town
From the Park, and the Play
From the sweet pleasure of a rural seat
- G -
A Gentleman, most wretched in his Lot
Gentlest Air thou breath of Lovers
Give me, oh! indulgent Fate
Give me, Oh!--2nd petition poem pasted over
Good Heav'n, I thank thee, Since it was design'd
A Greedy Heir long waited to fulfill
- H -
Hark! sure I hear Urania play
Hartford 'tis wrong if Poets may complain
Hast thou provided me a horse and arms? [Aristomenes]
Here will I wait . . . I may grant
Hither, Ardelia I your Stepps Pursue
How dear is Reputation bought
How far the sweets of Solitude excel
How gayly is at first begun
How ill the Motion with the Musick suits!
HOW is it in this chilling time
How is it that my lifted Eyes
How plain dear Madam was the want of sight
How shall I wooe thee gentle rest
How vain is Life which rightly we compare
How weak is man, that would himself perswade
- I -
I am thine O save me Lord
I having seen (out of the love of novelty) many Plays brought
If all th'appointed dayes of man were fair
If for a Woman I wou'd dye
If from some lonely and obscure recesse
If the Possession of Imperial Sway
If we those Gen'rous Sons, deserv'dly Praise
I grant thee no pretence to Bays
Immortal Venus, to whose Name
In Church the Prayer-Book, and the Fan display'd
IN dire Contest the Rats and Weazles met
Indulg'd by every active thought
In love, who to a cure aspires
IN Fanscomb Barn (who knows not Fanscomb Barn?)
In Station joyn'd, when prosperous days prevail'd
In such a Night, when every louder Wind
IN Vulgar Minds what Errors do arise!
It must not be nor can the grave
I've searcht the barren World, but cannot find
- J -
Joy from a zealous pen Ardelia sends
- K -
Kinde bird, thy Praises, I designe,
- L -
Let no bold Pray'r presume to rise
Lett the Fool still be true
Life at best
The long the long expected Hour is come
Love, but lett this concern you most
Love, give thy traine of Slaves away [Song from Triumphs/Queen Cypress]
Love, thou art best of humane Joys
- M -
Madam--'till pow'rfully convinc'd by You
A MAN whose house had taken fire
A MASTY of our English breed
Me, dear Ephelia, me, in vain you court
MEthinks this World is oddly made
Miranda hides her from the Sunne
More then a Sea of tears, can show
Mourn all ye Loves, the fair Adonis dyes
THE Muse, of ev'ry heav'nly gift allow'd
The Muses frolicksom and gay
My God Oh that my soul cou'd stay
- N -
Nature, in Pity, has deny'd you Shape
Never trifle with a Disease
NO better Dog e'er kept his Master's Door
NO Cautions of a Matron, Old and Sage
Nor envy nor the tongue with faction backt
No sooner Daphnis [1713: Flavio] was you gone
Now age came on and all the dismall traine
Now blow, ye Southern winds, with full release
Now, spent the alter'd King, in am'rous cares
The Nymph in vain, bestows her Pains
The NYMPH whose Virgin-heart thy charms have taught
- O -
Observe this Piece, which to our sight does bring
Of sleepless nights, and days with cares o'ercast
Of this small tribute of my wit
Oh! friendship, how prevailing is thy force.
Oh grief, why hast thou so much pow'r
Oh lett my Tears begin for whilst the staine
Oh! Praise the Lord, and let his ffame be told
O King of Terrours, whose unbounded sway
O Man! what Inspiration was thy Guide"
Ombre and Basset laid aside
On me then Sir as on a friend
ON the Banks of the Severn a desperate Maid
Over a cheerful cup 'tis thought
- P -
Peace, where art thou to be found
A Peevish Fellow laid his Head
Perswade me not, there is a grace
Pitty, the softest Attribute Above
A pleasing wonder throo' my fancy moves
Poor River, now thou'rt almost dry
The Preacher thus, to Man, his speech adrest
Pretty Nymph within this Shade
The Pretious hours of flying Youth
Prithee Friend that Hedge behold
Protect the State and let old England thrive
Proud Babylon, thou Saw'st us weep
- Q -
THE Queen of Birds, t'encrease the Regal Stock
Quickly Delia learn my passion
Quoth the Swains who got in at the late Masquerade
- R -
Reputation, Love, and Death
- S -
Say Lovely Nymph, where dost thou dwell?
See! Phoebus, breaking from the willing Skyes,
Seraphick Sound! Eternal Praise
The Sheep a people void of strife
She is not fair you criticks of the Town
A Shepherd seeking with his Lass
She Sigh'd, but soon it mixt with common air
Silvia letts from the Crowd retire
Since the Road of Life's so ill
Sir plausible as 'tis well known
Snatch'd from the verge of the devouring grave
So here confin'd, and but to female Clay
SOoner I'd praise a Cloud which Light beguiles
SOothing his Passions with a warb'ling Sound
The South Sea affair is what I now Sing
Stay Lovely viper, hast not on
Strephon whose person ev'ry grace
Such was Stattira, when young Ammon woo'd
Sure of successe, to you I boldly write
Sure there's a Zeal that's born of heav'nly Race
- T -
Then, by some fountain's flow'ry side
Then, to the snowy Ewe, in thy esteem
THINK not a partial fondness sway'd my mind
Thirsis, to thee I mean that Name to show
This matchless Picture, Jervas, hide
Though Caesar falling, shew'd no sign of fear
Though wee of Small Proportion see
This Day, sais Ralpho, I was free
This to the Crown, and blessing of my Life
Through every Age some Tyrant passion reigns
Thus reason'd they said he, but not aright
THUS Tapistry of old, the Walls adorn'd,
Thy workmanship, O Lord I am
'Tis fitt Serena shou'd be sung
Tis strange, this heart within my breast,
Thee woundrous Being excellently great
The treach'rous Fortune of a Royal Crown
Tho Sir I do much value set
Tho' to Antiquity the praise we yeild
A Thriving Merchant, who no Loss sustain'd
'Tis not my Lord that verse with me
'Tis now my dearest friend become your turn
'Tis true I write and tell me by what Rule
'Tis true Mirtillo 'twas a fault
'Tis true of courage I'm no mistress
Titus of all Mankind the Love engros't
A TOAD just crawling up to town
To all you sparkling Whiggs at Court
To Coleshill Seat of Noble Pen
To the Almighty on his radiant throne
To thee encreaser of my days
This dismal Morn when East Winds blow
To the still Covert of a Wood
To the Superior World to Solemn Peace
TO view his stately Walks and Groves
To write in verse has been my pleasing choice
Their piety th'Egyptians show'd by Art
The tree of Knowledge, we in Eden prov'd
A tree the fairest in the wood
Turenne with sleeping Monarchs lies enterr'd
'Twas long debated, wheither to a Play [Don Carlos Prologue]
'Twas scarce the dawn nor yet the distant East
Twice in our Solitude has now appear'd
Two long had lov'd and now the Nymph desir'd
- U -
URANIA, whom the Town admires
- V -
Vain Love, why dos't thou boast of wings
Venus who did her Bird impart
- W -
Warmth in my heart and wonder in my thought
WEary, at last of the Pindarick Way
A wealthy and a generous Lord
We did attempt to travell all Last night
Welcome what e're my tender flesh may say
What art thou Spleen, which ev'ry thing doest ape?
What dogs can do & what they'd say
What Fate within itts Bosome carry's
What freindship is, Ardelia shew?
When Caesar fell, he brav'd each killing wound
When, dear Teresa, shall I be
When first upon the Stage a Play appears [Aristomenes Prologue]
When from th'Infernal pitt two Furies rose
When Mars the Lemnian Darts survey'd
When my Aminta weeps 'tis sure
When Phoebus, at declining of the day
When Poets gave their God in Creete a Birth
When such a day, blesst the Arcadian plaine
Whereas 'tis spread about the Town
WHere is that World, to which the Fancy flies
Where is the trust in human things
Whilst H--ley with more near approaches blest
Whilst Monarks in stern Battels strove
Whilst Thirsis, in his Pride of Youth
Whilst with his falling Wings, the courtly Dove
WHO does not wish, ever to judge aright
Who is this from Edom moves?
Why are my steps with held. What bids me stay
Who e'er of Satyre does my pen accuse
Why doest thou still give way to such dispair?
WHY, to our Wonder, in this Place is seen
WHY was that baleful Creature made
With all respect and humble duty
Within a Meadow, on the way
With such a pulse, with such disorder'd veins
Witt as free and confin'd
A WIT, transported with Inditing
Wonder not Madam, that the Muses pay
Wou'd we attain the happy'st State
Wretched Amintor with a flame [Song from Aristomenes]
A Wretch long tortur'd with Disdain
- Y -
Ye Lads and ye Lasses that live at Long-Leat
A yong shepheard his life [Song from Aristomenes]
You have obey'd, you Winds that must fullfill
You, when your body, life shall leave
You who remote in London lye

Forest (1748) by Thomas Gainsborough (1727-1788)

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Page Last Updated: 16 June 2004