#English #Women
Your late kind Gift let me restor… For I must never wear it more. My Mother cries, 'What’s here to… ‘A Crimson Velvet Cap for you! ’If to these Heights so soon you…
May each new Year some new Perfec… Till all the Mother in the Daught… May’st Thou her Virtues to the W… And be what Henrietta was before! And when revolving Years mature t…
Where—e’er you go, some Actions s… Which make the Goodness of your M… Hibernia early saw those Seeds of… In your fair Breast, which now sh… Foresaw the Hopes you gave, matur…
Ierne’s now our royal Care: We lately fix’d our Vice—roy ther… How near was she to be undone, Till pious Love inspir’d her Son! What cannot our Vice—gerent do,
I read in your delighted Face, The Nuptial Bands are ty’d: From me congratulate her Grace, Young Portland’s lovely Bride. Tell her, an humble, artless Muse
Ladies, this Entertainment we hav… Has not been rightly suited, I mu… Heroic Virtue should have been di… And Homage to heroic Virtue paid. Low Comedy supplies but mean Deli…
This mourning Mother can with Eas… The Arts of Latium, and the Grec… Was early learn’d, nay more, was e… And knew the Pride of Science to… Left Men to take assuming Airs fr…
Contented in my humble State, I look with Pity on the Great; Who only Birth, or Wealth, respec… And treat true Merit with neglect… O Pow’r supreme! let me implore
See, the bright Sun renews his an… Each Beam re—tinges, and revives… By Years uninjur’d; so may’st tho… Not Time from thee, but thou from… O might the Fates thy vital Threa…
Madam, I hear, and hear with Sorr… That we’re to lose Your Grace To… Nor you alone, but Lady Di. Where, thus deserted, shall I fly… Am I condemn’d to live in Pain,
To the Right Hon. the Lady Carte… Weary’d with long Attendance on t… You, Madam, are the Wretch’s last… Eternal King! if here in vain I c… Where shall the Fatherless and Wi…
Since Milo rallies sacred Writ, To win the Title of a Wit; ’Tis pity but he shou’d obtain it, Who bravely pays his Soul to gain…
Written when the Author was sick. Somnus, pow’rful Deity, Mortals owe their Bliss to thee. How long shall I thy Absence mour… And when be bless’d in thy Return…
In vain you shew a happy Nation, The Gospel’s gracious Dispensatio… And plead from thence, to bring up… To early Piety and Truth. To unattentive Ears you preach,
This Present from a lovely Dame, Fair and unsully’d, as her Fame, Shall to Hibernia be convey’d, Where once, rever’d, her Father s… And taught the drooping Arts to s…