#EnglishWriters
Once on a time, in sunshine weathe… Falsehood and Truth walk’d out to… The neighbouring woods and lawns t… As opposites will sometimes do: Through many a blooming mead they…
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 I am scorch’d with hot des… In vain cold Friendship you retur… Your drops of pity on my fire, Alas! but make it fiercer burn. Ah! would you have the flame suppr…
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,
Reader, I was born, and cried; I crack’d, I smelt, and so I died… Like Julius Caesar’s was my death… Who in the senate lost his breath. Much alike entomb’d does lie
Will Piggot must to Coxwould go, To live, alas! in want, Unless Sir Thomas say, No, no, Th’ allowance is too scant. The gracious knight full well does…
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...
Whither would my passion run? Shall I fly her, or pursue her? Losing her I am undone, Yet would not gain her to undo her… Ye tyrants of the human breast,
Phillis, give this humour over, We too long have time abused; I shall turn an errant rover If the favour’s still refused. Faith ’tis nonsense out of measure…
While from our looks, fair nymph,… The secret passions of our mind; My heavy eyes, you say, confess A heart to love and grief inclined… There needs, alas! but little art
In Virgil’s Sacred Verse we find… That Passion can depress or raise The Heav’nly, as the Human Mind: Who dare deny what Virgil says? But if They shou’d; what our Grea…
Love! inform thy faithful creature How to keep his fair one’s heart; Must it be by truth of nature, Or by poor dissembling art? Tell the secret, show the wonder,
No - I’ll endure ten thousand dea… Ere any further I’ll comply: Oh! Sir, no man on earth that bre… Had ever yet his hand so high. Oh! take your sword and pierce my…
I, MY dear, was born to-day— So all my jolly comrades say: They bring me music, wreaths, and… And ask to celebrate my birth: Little, alas! my comrades know
Behind an unfrequented glade, Where yew and myrtle MIX their s… A widow Turtle pensive sat, And wept her murder’d lover’s fate… The Sparrow chanced that way to w…