#EnglishWriters
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…
What can I say? What Arguments c… My Truth? What Colors can descri… If it’s Excess and Fury be not kn… In what Thy Celia has already don… Thy Infant Flames, whilst yet the…
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,
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…
While blooming youth and gay delig… Sit on thy rosy cheeks confess’d, Thou hast, my dear, undoubted righ… To triumph o’er this destined brea… My reason bends to what thy eyes o…
Honour, I say, or honest Fame, I mean the substance, not the name… (Not that light heap of tawdry war… Ermin, Coronets, and Stars, Which often is by merit sought,
Democritus, dear droll, revisit ea… And with our follies glut thy heig… Sad Heraclitus, serious wretch, r… In louder grief our greater crimes… Between you both I unconcern’d st…
The merchant, to secure his treasu… Conveys it in a borrowed name: Euphelia serves to grace my measur… But Cloe is my real flame. My softest verse, my darling lyre
Since we your husband daily see So jealous out of season, Phillis, let you and I agree To make him so with reason. I’m vex’d to think that every nigh…
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…
Hans Carvel, impotent and old, Married a lass of London mould. Handsome? Enough; extremely gay; Loved music, company, and play: High flights she had, and wit at w…
Fire, Water, Woman, are Man’s Ru… Says wise Professor Vander Bruin… By Flames a House I hir’d was lo… Last Year: and I must pay the Co… This Spring the Rains o’erflow’d…
Farewell, Amynta, we must part; The charm has lost its power Which held so fast my captived hea… Until this fatal hour. Hadst thou not thus my love abused…
I have no hopes, the Duke he says… In sure and certain hopes - the pr… Of these two learned peers, I pr’… Who is the lying knave, the priest… The Duke he stands an infidel con…
Sir, As once a twelvemonth to the pries… Holy at Rome, here Antichrist, The Spanish king presents a jenne… To show his love,—that’s all that’…