#EnglishWriters
Since life in sorrow must be spent… So be it—I am well content, And meekly wait my last remove, Seeking only growth in love. No bliss I seek, but to fulfil
Ah, how the Human Mind wearies he… With her own wand’rings, and, invo… Impenetrable, speculates amiss! Measuring, in her folly, things di… By human, laws inscrib’d on adaman…
Ye sons of earth prepare the ploug… Break up your fallow ground; The sower is gone forth to sow, And scatter blessings round. The seed that finds a stony soil
Little inmate, full of mirth, Chirping on my kitchen hearth, Whereso’er be thine abode, Always harbinger of good, Pay me for thy warm retreat
‘Ere God had built the mountains, Or raised the fruitful hills; Before he fill’d the fountains That feed the running rills; In me from everlasting,
Attic maid! with honey fed, Bear’st thou to thy callow brood Yonder locust from the mead, Destined their delicious food? Ye have kindred voices clear,
Two Poets, (poets, by report, Not oft so well agree,) Sweet harmonist of Flora’s court! Conspire to honour thee. They best can judge a poet’s worth…
I wish thy lot, now bad, still wor… For when at worst, they say, thing…
Rich, thou hadst many lovers—poor,… So surely want extinguishes the fl… And she who call’d thee once her p… And her Adonis, now inquires thy… Where wast thou born, Socicrates,…
Jesus! whose blood so freely strea… To satisfy the law’s demand; By Thee from guilt and wrath rede… Before the Father’s face I stand. To reconcile offending man,
Sin has undone our wretched race; But Jesus has restored, And brought the sinner face to fac… With his forgiving Lord. This we repeat from year to year
Oh for a lodge in some vast wilder… Some boundless contiguity of shade… Where rumour of oppression and dec… Of unsuccessful or successful war Might never reach me more! My ear…
John Gilpin was a citizen Of credit and renown, A trainband captain eke was he Of famous London town. John Gilpin’s spouse said to her…
This evening, Delia, you and I, Have managed most delightfully, For with a frown we parted; Having contrived some trifle that We both may be much troubled at,
I place an offering at thy shrine, From taint and blemish clear, Simple and pure in its design, Of all that I hold dear. I yield thee back thy gifts again,