#EnglishWriters
When first the peasant, long incli… Forsakes his rural sports and peac… Pleas’d with the scene the smiling… He scorns the verdant meads and fl… Then dances jocund o’er the watery…
LONG-EXPECTED one and twenty Ling’ring year at last has flown, Pomp and pleasure, pride and plent… Great Sir John, are all your own. Loosen’d from the minor’s tether,
Written in Ridicule of Certain P… {of Thomas Warton} Published in 1… Wheresoe’er I turn my view, All is strange, yet nothing new; Endless labour all along,
The man, my friend, whose consciou… With virtue’s sacred ardour glows, Nor taints with death the envenom’… Nor needs the guard of Moorish bo… Though Scythia’s icy cliffs he tr…
Friendship! peculiar boon of Heav… The noble mind’s delight and pride… To men and angels only given, To all the lower world denied. While love, unknown among the bles…
At length must Suffolk beauties s… So long renown’d in B-n’s deathle… Thy charms at least, fair Firebra… Some zealous bard to wake the slee… For such thy beauteous mind and lo…
No more the morn with tepid rays Unfolds the flower of various hue; Noon spreads no more the genial bl… Nor gentle eve distills the dew. The lingering hours prolong the ni…
When Scaliger, whole years of lab… Beheld his lexicon complete at las… And weary of his task, with wond’r… Saw, from words pil’d on words, a… He curs’d the industry, inertly st…
Thou who survey’st these walls wit… Pause at this tomb where Hanmer’s… His various worth through varied l… And learn his virtues while thou m… His force of genius burn’d in earl…
{On her giving the author a gold a… net-work purse of her own weaving}… Though gold and silk their charms… To make thy curious web delight, In vain the varied work would shin…
The man who pants for ample sway, Must bid his passions all obey; Must bid each wild desire be still… Nor yoke his reason with his will: For though beneath thy haughty bro…
Alas! with swift and silent pace, Impatient time rolls on the year; The Seasons change, and Nature’s… Now sweetly smiles, now frowns sev… ’Twas Spring, ’twas Summer, all w…
LIFE of Ages, richly poured, Love of God, unspent and free, Flowing in the Prophet’s word And the People’s liberty! Never was to chosen race
Oft in danger, yet alive, We are come to thirty-five; Long may better years arrive, Better years than thirty-five. Could philosophers contrive
Not the soft sighs of vernal gales… The fragrance of the flowery vales… The murmurs of the crystal rill, The vocal grove, the verdant hill; Not all their charms, though all u…