Poems by Mary Barber
On The Dutchess Of Newcastle's Picture.
... Say, Worsdcal, where you learn'd the Art ...
To Mrs. Newans
... The Draught will more than pay the Cost ...
To The Right Honourable John Barber, Esq; Lord Mayor Of London, On Committing One Of My Sons To His
... The Creature has Sense, and, in my Eyes, is pretty, ...
Written For My Son, To Mr. Barry;
... Why should you think, but I, with Ease, ...
An Epigram. Since Milo Rallies Sacred Writ
... Who bravely pays his Soul to gain it ...
Occasion'd By Seeing The Honourable --- Treat A Person Of Merit With Insolence
... Let none but Fools, who pine to rise, ...
Written In The Conclusion Of A Letter To Mr. Tickel,
... In vain, alas! my Heart o'erflows ...
By A Person Of Quality.
... Remote from Strife, from urban Throngs, and Noise ...
Written for my Son ... upon his Master's First Bringing in a Rod
... Brought in this Rod, to shew his pow'r ...
Written At TunbridgeWells, To The Right Honourable The Lady Barbara North
... With that transmitted down from Greece, ...
A Letter Written From London To Mrs. Strangeways Hornet
... Fain would I hope, tho' quite depress'd with Fear ...
To Mrs. S---. Written In My Sickness.
... Thy gen'rous Soul, in Friendship try'd, ...
An Apology For My Son To His Master, For Not Bringing An Exercise On The Coronation Day.
... Whilst Strangers make their happier Claim ...
On Leaving Bath.
... Nor fix'd by Choice, but barr'd by Fate, ...
To Mrs. Putland.
... Then, lest your Form should make you vain ...
