#EnglishWriters
When Bibo thought fit from the wo… As full of Champagne as an egg’s… He waked in the boat, and to Char… He would be row’d back, for he was… Trim the boat and sit quiet, stern…
Sly Merry Andrew, the last South… (At Bartholomew he did not much a… So peevish was the dict of the Ma… At Southwark, therefore, as his t… To please our masters, and his fri…
Solomon considers man through the several stages and conditions of life, and concludes, in general, that we are all miserable. He reflects more particularly upon the trouble and uncerta...
While from our looks, fair nymph,… The secret passions of our mind; My heavy eyes, you say, confess A heart to love and grief inclined… There needs, alas! but little art
From publick Noise and factious S… From all the busie Ills of Life, Take me, My Celia, to Thy Breast… And lull my wearied Soul to Rest: For ever, in this humble Cell,
The train of equipage and pomp of… The shining sideboard and the burn… Let other ministers, great Anne,… And partial fall thy gift to their… To the fair Portrait of my sovere…
Love! inform thy faithful creature How to keep his fair one’s heart; Must it be by truth of nature, Or by poor dissembling art? Tell the secret, show the wonder,
But shall we take the Muse abroad… To drop her idly on the road, And leave our subject in the middl… As Butler did his Bear and Fiddl… Yet he, consummate master, knew
WHAT nymph should I admire or tr… But Chloe beauteous, Chloe just? What nymph should I desire to see… But her who leaves the plain for m… To whom should I compose the lay,
Poor Hal caught his death standin… Expecting till midnight when Nan… But fatal his patience, as cruel t… And cursed was the weather that qu… Whoe’er thou art that reads these…
What charms you have, from what hi… Have been the pleasing subjects of… Unskill’d and young, yet something… Of Ca’ndish’ beauty, join’d to Ce… But when you please to show the la…
In vain, alas! poor Strephon trie… To ease his tortured breast, Since Amoret the cure denies, And makes his pain a jest. Ah! fair one, why to me so coy,
Thus to the Muses spoke the Cypri… Adorn my altars, and revere my nam… My son shall else assume his poten… Twang goes the bow; my girls have… The Muses answer’d Venus, We der…
When Kneller’s works, of various… Were to fair Venus shown, The Goddess spied in every face Some features of her own. Just so, (and pointing with her ha…
Thus Kitty, beautiful and young, And wild as colt untamed, Bespoke the fair from whence she s… With little rage inflamed. Inflamed with rage at sad restrain…