publish it to all the nation;

(Matthew Prior (1664-1721), British poet. To John I ow'd great obligation (l. 3). . . Oxford Book of Verse in English Translation, The. Charles Tomlinson, ed. (1980) Oxford University Press.)

For, as our different ages move,
'Tis so ordain'd (would Fate but mend it!),
That I shall be past making love
When she begins to comprehend it.

(Matthew Prior (1664-1721), British poet. To a Child of Quality (l. 25-28). . . Oxford Book of English Verse, The, 1250-1918. Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. (New ed., rev. and enl., 1939) Oxford University Press.)

Cured yesterday of my disease,
I died last night of my physician.

(Matthew Prior (1664-1721), British poet, diplomat. repr. in The Literary Works of Matthew Prior, eds. H.B. Wright and M.K. Spears (1959). The Remedy Worse than the Disease (written 1714, published 1727).)

They never taste who always drink;
They always talk who never think.

(Matthew Prior (1664-1721), British poet, diplomat. repr. in The Literary Works of Matthew Prior, eds. H.B. Wright and M.K. Spears (1959). Upon this Passage in Scaligerana (1740).)

And Venus to the Loves around
Remarked how ill we all dissembled.

(Matthew Prior (1664-1721), British poet. The Merchant, to secure his treasure (l. 15-16). . . Oxford Book of English Verse, The, 1250-1918. Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. (New ed., rev. and enl., 1939) Oxford University Press.)

Euphelia serves to grace my measure,
But Chloe is my real flame.

(Matthew Prior (1664-1721), British poet. The Merchant, to secure his treasure (l. 3-4). . . Oxford Book of English Verse, The, 1250-1918. Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. (New ed., rev. and enl., 1939) Oxford University Press.)

Less smooth than her Skin and less white than her breast
Was this pollisht stone beneath which she lyes prest
Stop, Reader, and Sigh while thou thinkst on the rest

With a just trim of Virtue her Soul was endu'd
Not affectedly Pious nor secretly lewd,
She cut even between the Cocquet and the Prude.

(Matthew Prior (1664-1721), British poet. Jinny the Just (l. 62-68). . . Oxford Book of English Verse, The, 1250-1918. Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. (New ed., rev. and enl., 1939) Oxford University Press.)

Venus, take my votive glass:
Since I am not what I was,
What from this day I shall be,
Venus, let me never see.

(Matthew Prior (1664-1721), U.S. poet. The Lady Who Offers Her Looking-Glass to Venus (l. 1-4). . . Oxford Book of Short Poems, The. P. J. Kavanagh and James Michie, eds. Oxford University Press.)

But Thou that know'st Love above Intrest or lust
Strew the Myrtle and Rose on this once belov'd Dust
And shed one pious tear upon Jinny the Just
Tread soft on her Grave, and do right to her honor
Let neither rude hand no ill Tongue light upon her
Do all the smal Favors that now can be done her

(Matthew Prior (1664-1721), British poet. Jinny the Just (l. 13-18). . . Oxford Book of English Verse, The, 1250-1918. Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. (New ed., rev. and enl., 1939) Oxford University Press.)

To John I owed great obligation;
But John, unhappily, thought fit
To publish it to all the nation:
Sure John and I are more than quit.

(Matthew Prior (1664-1721), British poet, diplomat. repr. In The Writings of Matthew Prior (1905). EpigramAnother, Poems (1718).)