#EnglishWriters
My song shall bless the Lord of a… My praise shall climb to His abod… Thee, Saviour, by that name I cal… The great Supreme, the mighty God… Without beginning or decline,
‘I could be well content, allowed… Of past experience, and the wisdom… From worn-out follies, now acknowl… To recommence life’s trial, in the… Of fewer errors, on a second proof…
Bid adieu, my sad heart, bid adieu… Thy pleasure is past, and thy sorr… See the shadows of evening how far… And a long night is coming, that n… For the sun is now set that enlive…
Though nature weigh our talents, a… To every man his modicum of sense, And Conversation in its better pa… May be esteem’d a gift, and not an… Yet much depends, as in the tiller…
’Tis my happiness below Not to live without the cross, But the Saviour’s power to know, Sanctifying every loss; Trials must and will befall;
On the Burning of Lord Mansfield… So then - the Vandals of our isle… Sworn foes to sense and law, Have burnt to dust a nobler pile Than ever Roman saw!
Hatred and vengence—my eternal por… Scarce can endure delay of executi… Wait with impatient readiness to s… Soul in a moment. Damned below Judas; more abhorred…
By whom was David taught To aim the deadly blow, When he Goliath fought, And laid the Gittite low? Nor sword nor spear the stripling…
Where hast thou floated, in what s… Thy pastime? When wast thou an eg… Lost in the immensity of ocean’s w… Roar as they might, the overbearin… That rocked the deep, thy cradle,…
Art thou some individual of a kind Long-lived by nature as the rook o… Heap treasure, then, for if thy ne… Thou hast excuse, and scarce canst… But man thou seem’st, clear theref…
The lapse of time and rivers is th… Both speed their journey with a re… The silent pace, with which they s… No wealth can bribe, no prayers pe… Alike irrevocable both when past,
What various hindrances we meet In coming to a mercy seat! Yet who that knows the worth of pr… But wishes to be often there? Prayer makes the darken’d cloud wi…
My rose, Gravina, blooms anew; And steeped not now in rain, But in Castalian streams by you, Will never fade again.
‘Write to Sardis,’ saith the Lord… ‘And write what He declares, He whose Spirit, and whose word, Upholds the seven stars: All thy works and ways I search,
Thus Italy was moved—nor did the… Ãneas in his mind less tumult fee… On every side his anxious thought… Restless, unfix’d, not knowing whi… And as a cistern that in brim of b…
