#English
I envy not thy mortal triumphs, D… (Thou enemy to Vertue as to Breat… Nor do I wonder much, nor yet com… The weekly numbers by thy arrow sl… The whole world is thy Factory, a…
Tell me you stars that our affecti… Why made ye me that cruell one to… Why burnes my heart her scorned sa… Whose breast is hard as Chrystall… God of Desire! if all thy Votarie…
Peace my hearts blab, be ever dumb… Sorrowes speak loud without a tong… And my perplexed thoughts forbear To breath your selves in any ear: Tis scarce a true or manly grief
But is it true, the Court mislik’… That Christ-Church and the Arts… That Ignoramus should so far exce… Their Hobby-horse from ours hath… Troth you are justly serv’d, that…
VVere I to leave no more then a g… Or but to hear the summons to my e… (Which I have long’d for) I could… Attire my grief in words, and so a… That passion in my bosom, which ou…
I see that wreath which doth the w… ‘Gainst the quick strokes of thund… To keep off deaths pale dart. For… Thou hadst been number’d still wit… Times sithe had fear’d thy Lawrel…
So breaks the day when the returni… Hath newly through his Winter Tro… As You (Great Sir!) in this regr… From the remoter Climate of the N… To tell You now what cares, what…
To have liv’d eminent in a degreee Beyond our lofty’st flights, that… Or t’have had too much merit is no… For such excesses find no Epitaph… At common graves we have Poetick…
Should we our Sorrows in this Met… Oft as Misfortune doth their Subj… And to the sev’ral Losses which b… Pay diff’rent Rites at ev’ry Fune… Like narrow Springs drain’d by di…
Il sabio mude conseio: Il loco pe… We lov’d as friends now twenty yea… Is’t time or reason think you to g… When though two prentiships set J… I have not held my Rachel dear at…
Perhaps ’twas but conceit. Errone… Thou art thine own distemper and o… Imagine then, that sick unwholsom… Was thy corruption breath’d into a… Nor is it strange, when we in char…
Call for amazed thoughts, a wounde… And bleeding Hearts at our Intell… Call for that Trump of Death the… Which kills the Hearers: This bef… Our Story which through times vas…
It is, Sir, a confest intrusion h… That I before your labours do app… Which no loud Herald need, that m… Or seek acceptance, but the Autho… Much less that should this happy w…
VVhen first the Magick of thine e… Usurpt upon my liberty, Triumphing in my hearts spoyl, tho… Didst lock up thine in such a vow; When I prove false, may the brigh…
VVhat is th’ Existence of Mans l… But open war, or slumber’d strife. Where sickness to his sense presen… The combat of the Elements: And never feels a perfect Peace