#EnglishWriters
Upon the Model of The Nut-Brown… Thou, to whose eyes I bend, at wh… (Though low my voice, though artle… I take the sprightly reed, and sin… Careless of what the censuring wor…
Since my words, though ne’er so te… With sincerest truth express’d, Cannot make your heart surrender, Nor so much as warm your breast; What will move the springs of Nat…
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,
Alexis shun’d his Fellow Swains, Their rural Sports, and jocund St… (Heav’n guard us all from Cupid’s… He lost his Crook, He left his F… And wand’ring thro’ the lonely Ro…
To me ’twas given to die; to thee… To live: alas! one moment sets us… Mark! how impartial is the will of…
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 bewailing of man’s miseries hath been elegantly and copiously set forth by many, in the writings as well of philosophers as divines; and it is both a pleasant and a profitable conte...
Morella, charming without art, And kind without design, Can never lose the smallest part Of such a heart as mine. Obliged a thousand several ways,
Accept, my Love, as true a heart As ever lover gave; ’Tis free (it vows) from my art, And proud to be your slave. Then take it kindly, as ’twas mean…
Tway Mice, full Blythe and Amica… Batten beside Erle Robert’s Tabl… Lies there ne Trap their Necks to… Ne old black Cat their Steps to w… Their Fill they eat of Fowl and…
Her time with equal prudence Silv… First writes her billet-doux, then… Her mass and toilette, vespers, an… Thus God and Ashtaroth divide the… Constant she keeps her Ember-week…
Thy elder Look, Great Janus, cas… Into the long Records of Ages pas… Review the Years in fairest Actio… With noted White, Superior to the… Aera’s deriv’d, and Chronicles be…
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…
Whate’er thy countrymen have done By law and wit, by sword and gun, In thee is faithfully recited, And all the living world that view Thy work, give thee the praises du…
Some kind angel, gently flying, Moved with pity at my pain, Tell Corinna I am dying Till with joy we meet again. Tell Corinna, since we parted