#EnglishWriters
As Cloe came into the Room t’othe… I peevish began; Where so long co… In your Life-time You never regar… You promis’d at Two; and (pray lo… A Lady’s Watch needs neither Fig…
Soft Cupid, wanton, amorous boy, The other day, moved with my lyre, In flattering accents spoke his jo… And uttered thus his fond desire. Oh! raise thy voice, one song I a…
Dear Cloe, how blubber’d is that… Thy cheek all on fire, and thy hai… Pr’ythee quit this caprice; and (a… Let us e’en talk a little like fol… How can’st thou presume, thou hast…
Cloe beauty has, and wit, And an air that is not common; Every charm in her does meet, Fit to make a handsome woman. But we do not only find
In Heav’n, one Holy-day, You rea… In wise Anacreon, Ganymede Drew heedless Cupid in, to throw A Main, to pass an Hour, or so. The little Trojan, by the way,
While with labour assiduous due pl… And in one day atone for the busin… In a little Dutch chaise, on a Sa… On my left hand my Horace, a W* o… No memoirs to compose, and no post…
Reading ends in melancholy, Wine breeds vices and diseases, Wealth is but care, and love but f… Only friendship truly pleases. My wealth, my books, my flask, my…
It always has been a thought discr… To know the company you meet; And sure there may be secret dange… In talking much before a stranger. Agreed: what then? Then drink you…
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…
Come, weep no more, for ’tis in va… Torment not thus your pretty heart… Think, Flavia, we may meet again, As well as that we now must part. You sigh and weep; the gods neglec…
By Sylvia if thy charming self be… If friendship be thy virgin vows’… O! let me in Aminta’s praises joi… Hers my esteem shall be, my passio… When for thy head the garland I p…
The amorous youth, whose tender br… Was by his darling Cat possest, Obtain’d of Venus his desire, Howe’er irregular his fire: Nature the power of love obey’d,
Well, I will never more complain, Or call the Fates unkind; Alas! how fond it is, how vain! But self-conceitedness does reign I nevery mortal mind.
Whilst others proclaim This nymph or that swain, Dearest Nelly the lovely I’ll sin… She shall grace every verse, I’ll her beauties rehearse,
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…