#IrishWriters
On Britain Europe’s safety lies, Britain is lost if Harley dies: Harley depends upon your skill: Think what you save, or what you k…
Because I am by nature blind, I wisely choose to walk behind; However, to avoid disgrace, I let no creature see my face. My words are few, but spoke with s…
Her dead lady’s joy and comfort, Who departed this life The last day of March, 1727: To the great joy of Bryan That his antagonist is gone.
Returning Janus now prepares, For Bec, a new supply of cares, Sent in a bag to Dr. Swift, Who thus displays the new-year’s g… First, this large parcel brings yo…
A lion sunk by time’s decay, Too feeble grown to hunt his prey, Observed his fatal hour draw nigh: He drooped and laid him down to di… There came by chance a savage boar…
All folks who pretend to religion… Allow there’s a HELL, but disput… But, if HELL may by logical rule… The place of the damned –I’ll tel… Wherever the damned do chiefly abo…
Resolv’d my annual verse to pay, By duty bound, on Stella’s day, Furnish’d with paper, pens, and in… I gravely sat me down to think: I bit my nails, and scratch’d my h…
This day, dear Bec, is thy nativi… Had Fate a luckier one, she’d giv… She chose a thread of greatest len… And doubly twisted it for strength… Nor will be able with her shears
Ye poets ragged and forlorn, Down from your garrets haste; Ye rhymers, dead as soon as born, Not yet consign’d to paste; I know a trick to make you thrive;
Corinna, Pride of Drury-Lane, For whom no Shepherd sighs in vai… Never did Covent Garden boast So bright a batter’d, strolling T… No drunken Rake to pick her up,
Pallas, observing Stella’s wit Was more than for her sex was fit, And that her beauty, soon or late, Might breed confusion in the state… In high concern for human kind,
The joy of man, the pride of brute… Domestic subject for disputes, Of plenty thou the emblem fair, Adorn’d by nymphs with all their c… I saw thee raised to high renown,
Shepherd. Echo, I ween, will i… And quaintly answer questions. Sh… Echo. Tr… Shepherd. What must we do our… Echo. Pr…
All-ruling tyrant of the earth, To vilest slaves I owe my birth, How is the greatest monarch blest, When in my gaudy livery drest! No haughty nymph has power to run
I will not build on yonder mount; And, should you call me to account… Consulting with myself, I find It was no levity of mind. Whate’er I promised or intended,