#Augustan
When wise Ulysses, from his nativ… Long kept by wars, and long by tem… Arrived at last, poor, old, disgui… To all his friends, and ev’n his… Changed as he was, with age, and t…
What dire offence from am’rous cau… What mighty contests rise from tri… I sing—This verse to Caryl, Muse… This, ev’n Belinda may vouchsafe… Slight is the subject, but not so…
Descend ye Nine! descend and sing… The breathing instruments inspire, Wake into voice each silent string… And sweep the sounding lyre! In a sadly—pleasing strain
I am his Highness’ dog at Kew; Pray tell me, sir, whose dog are y…
Say, lovely youth, that dost my he… Can Phaon’s eyes forget his Sapph… Must then her name the wretched wr… To thy remembrance lost, as to thy… Ask not the cause that I new numb…
To one fair lady out of Court, And two fair ladies in, Who think the Turk and Pope a spo… And wit and love no sin! Come, these soft lines, with nothi…
Semichorus. Oh Tyrant Love! hast thou possest The prudent, learn’d, and virtuous… Wisdom and wit in vain reclaim, And Arts but soften us to feel th…
Begone, ye Critics, and restrain… Codrus writes on, and will for eve… The heaviest Muse the swiftest co… As clocks run fastest when most le… What tho’ no bees around your crad…
True ease in writing comes from ar… As those move easiest who have lea… 'Tis not enough no harshness gives… The sound must seem an echo to the… Soft is the strain when Zephyr ge…
With no poetic ardour fir’d I press the bed where Wilmot lay; That here he lov’d, or here expir’… Begets no numbers grave or gay. Beneath thy roof, Argyle, are bre…
Tho’ Artemisia talks, by fits, Of councils, classics, fathers, wi… Reads Malbranche, Boyle, and Loc… Yet in some things methinks she fa… 'Twere well if she would pare her…
Oh be thou blest with all that He… Long Health, long Youth, long Pl… Not with those Toys the female wo… Riches that vex, and Vanities tha… With added years if Life bring no…
Thy forests, Windsor! and thy gre… At once the Monarch’s and the Mus… Invite my lays. Be present, sylva… Unlock your springs, and open all… Granville commands; your aid O Mu…
Lycidas. Thyrsis, the music of that murm’ri… Is not so mournful as the strains… Nor rivers winding thro’ the vales… So sweetly warble, or so smoothly…
Parson, these things in thy posses… Are better than the Bishop’s bles… A Wife that makes conserves; a St… That carries double when there’s n… October store, and best Virginia,
