#EnglishWriters
VENUS, take my votive glass: Since I am not what I was, What from this day I shall be, Venus, let me never see.
Let 'em Censure: what care I? The Herd of Criticks I defie. Let the Wretches know, I write Regardless of their Grace, or Spi… No, no: the Fair, the Gay, the Y…
How long, deluded Albion, wilt th… In the lethargic sleep, the sad re… By which thy close thy constant en… Has softly lull’d thee to thy woes… Or wake, degenerate isle, or cease…
Fast by the banks of Cam was Coli… (Ye Nymphs, for every guard that… To Wimple’s woody shade his way h… (Flourish those woods, the Muses’… As whilom Colin ancient books had…
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…
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…
When you with High-Dutch Heeren… Expect false Latin and stum’d win… They never taste who always drink; They always talk who never think.
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…
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…
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…
Recit. Beneath a verdant laurel’s ample s… His lyre to mournful numbers strun… Horace, immortal bard supinely lai… To Venus thus address’d the song;
Spare, generous victor, spare the… Who did unequal war pursue; That more than triumph he might ha… In being overcome by you. In the dispute, whate’er I said,
The pride of every grove I chose, The violet sweet and lily fair, The dappled pink and blushing rose… To deck my charming Cloe’s hair. At morn the nymph vouchsafed to pl…
Phillis, this pious talk give o’er… And modesty pretend no more, It is too plain an art: Surely you take me for a fool, And would by this prove me so dull
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…