#IrishWriters
Ime Pleasd that Heaven hears my c… Regards me when I pray, Ime pleasd, & in a gratefull… Will worship every day. God heard my voice, & I escap…
On verdurd trees ye silver blossom… Whose leaves atop their perfect wh… & faintly streak with stains o… The western breeze steales ore ye… to sigh near roses as insnard by l…
Come hither, Boy, we’ll hunt to D… The Book-Worm, ravening Beast of… Produc’d by Parent Earth, at odds (As Fame reports it) with the God… Him frantick Hunger wildly drives
From that dire æra, bane to Saru… Which broke his schemes and laid h… He talks and writes that Pop’ry w… And we, and he, and all his works… What touch’d himself was almost fa…
With Moral Tale let Ancient Wisd… Which thus I sing to make the Mod… Strong Neptune once with sage Min… And rising Athens was the Victor’… By Neptune, Plutus (Guardian Pow…
As thro’ the Psalms from theme to… Methinks like Eve in Paradice I… And ev’ry grace of song I seem’d… As the gay pride of ev’ry season,… She gently treading all the walks…
With kind compassion hear my cry O Jesu, Lord of life, on high! As when the Summer’s seasons beat With scorching flame and parching… The trees are burnt, the flowers f…
The fleeting Joy that all things… Goes off like snow while Zephirs… The happy wish that makes our blis… it is not wealth it is not to be g… To glide along on pleasures easy f…
Just when ye dead of night began t… & boding visions senceless dre… Methought a matron stood beside my… Upon her face a wondrous sweetness… & pointed Glorys dressd the mo…
How nicely fair Phillis you manag… You neither reproach nor approve h… Just keep him in play wth ye hopes… Not give him enough that you’le lo… Tis tyrrany ruling in love wth suc…
Strephon & I upon a bank were… Where the gay spring in varied col… & her rich odours lavish natur… When thus the Youth, while this w… Can we but wonder at its maker too…
To the kind powr who taught me how… Thus with the first of all wch he… Did ancient piety approach the Go… Defended long by prejudice & p… Ive fancyd love a cant its god def…
To grace those lines wch next appe… The Pencil shone with more abated… Yet still ye pencil shone, ye line… & awfull Moses stands recorded… Lett his repleat with flames &…
Phillis I long yr powr have ownd & you still gently swayd Now nature has yr charms dethrond & time your chain decayd Both are wth such perversness curs…
Mourn widdowd Iland, Mourn, your… Mourn ye unhappy flocks your Shea… Around your grief in dolefull stra… & Lett ym in sad Eccho’s dy a… As sympathising wth their masters…