Poem by John Dryden

Upon Young Mr. Rogers, of Gloucestershire

OF gentle Blood, his Parents only Treasure,
Their lasting Sorrow and their vanish’d Pleasure.
Adorn’d with Features, Virtues, Wit, and Grace,
A large Provision for so short a Race:
More mod’rate Gifts might have prolong’d his Date,
Too early fitted for a better State:
But, knowing Heav’n his Home, to shun Delay
He leap’d o’er Age, and took the shortest Way.

1. A Prologue
2. Hymn For St. John's Eve, 29th June
3. You Charm'd Me Not With That Fair Face
4. To John Hoddesdon, on his Divine Epigrams
5. Epitaph on a Nephew in Catworth Church, Huntingdonshire

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