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…

Dulce est desipere in loco. Some Folks are drunk, yet do not… So might not Bacchus give You La… Was it a Muse, O lofty Poet, Or Virgin of St. Cyr, You saw?

Dictate, O mighty judge, what tho… Of cities and of courts, of books… And deign to let thy servant hold… Through ages, thus, I may presume… And from the transcript of thy pro…

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…

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…

Did sweeter Sounds adorn my flowi… Than ever Man pronounc’d, or Ange… Had I all Knowledge, Human and D… That Thought can reach, or Scienc… And had I Pow’r to give that Kno…

Poor, little, pretty, fluttering t… Must we no longer live together? And dost thou prune thy trembling… To take thy flight thou know’st no… Thy humorous vein, thy pleasing fo…

Dum studeo fungi fallentis munere… Adfectoque viam sedibus Elysiis Arctoa florens sophia, Samiisque… Discipulis, animas morte carere ca… Has ego corporibus profugas ad sid…

Ma petite ame, ma mignonne, Tu t’en vas donc, máfille, et Die… Tu pars seulette, nuë, et tremblo… Que deviendra ton humeur folichonn… Que deviendront tant de jolis ébat…

Prometheus, forming Mr. Day, Carved something like a man in cla… The mortal’s work might well misca… He that does heaven and earth cont… Has only power to form a soul;

On Exodus III. 14. ‘I am that I… Man! foolish man! Scarce know’st thou how thyself be… Scarce hadst thou thought enough t… Yet, steel’d with studied boldness…

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’…

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…

To the tune of King John and the… Who has e’er been at Paris must n… The fatal retreat of th’ unfortuna… Where honour and justice most oddl… To ease heroes’ pains by a halter…

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