#EnglishWriters
Wiessen and nature held a long con… If she created or he painted best; With pleasing thought the wondrous… She still form’d fairer, he still… In these seven brethren they conte…
When future ages shall with wonder… These glorious lines which Harley… They shall confess that Britain c… A fairer column to the father’s pr…
Of all that William rules, or rob… Describes, great Rhea, of thy glo… When or on posthorse or in chaise, With much expense and little ease, My destin’d miles I shall have go…
When crowding folks, with strange… Were making legs, and begging plac… And some with patents, some with m… Tired out my good Lord Dorset’s s… Sneaking I stood amongst the crew…
At Mary’s tomb (sad sacred place!… The Virtues shall their vigils ke… And every Muse and every Grace In solemn state shall ever weep. The future pious mournful fair,
Bless’d be the princes who have fo… For pompous names or wide dominion… Since by their error we are taught That happiness is but opinion.
Ye careful Angels, whom eternal F… Ordains, on Earth and human Acts… Who turn with secret Pow’r this r… And bid predestin’d Empires rise… Your sacred Aid religious Monarch…
Since, Moggy, I mun bid adieu, How can I help despairing? Let cruel Fate us still pursue, There’s nought more worth my carin… ’Twas she alone could calm my soul
The merchant, to secure his treasu… Conveys it in a borrow’d name: Euphelia serves to grace my measur… But Cloe is my real flame. My softest verse, my darling lyre,
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…
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
How old may Phyllis be, you ask, Whose beauty thus all hearts engag… To answer is no easy task; For she has really two ages. Stiff in brocard, and pinch’d in s…
Phillis, since we have both been k… And of each other had our fill, Tell me what pleasure you can find In forcing Nature 'gainst her wil… ’Tis true, you may, with art and p…
Full oft doth Matt. with Topaz di… Eateth baked meats, drinketh Gree… But Topas his own worke rehearset… And Matt. mote praise what Topaz… Now shure as priest did e’er shriv…
As Nancy at her toilette sat, Admiring this, and blaming that, Tell me, she said, but tell me tru… The nymph who could your heart sub… What sort of charms does she posse…