| The Poor, the old and rotten scows, were advertised to sail |
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| To Aphrodite, with a Talisman |
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| The Trumpet Shall Sound |
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| Loudon Hill; or, Drumclog |
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| Peace, wayward barne, O cease thy moan |
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| Dives and Lazarus |
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| Life Owes Me Nothing |
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| God's Call |
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| Peach Orchard Mama |
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| Johnie Cock |
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And I mus say
That you did a fine
Job writting your poem