#EnglishWriters
An Oyster, cast upon the shore, Was heard, though never heard befo… Complaining in a speech well worde… And worthy thus to be recorded:— Ah, hapless wretch! condemn’d to d…
Patron of all those luckless brain… That, to the wrong side leaning, Indite much metre with much pains, And little or no meaning; Ah why, since oceans, rivers, stre…
I wish thy lot, now bad, still wor… For when at worst, they say, thing…
Reader! behold a monument That asks no sigh or tear, Though it perpetuate the event Of a great burial here.
You bid me write to amuse the tedi… And save from withering my poetic… Hard is the task, my friend, for v… From the free mind, not fettered d… Restless amidst unceasing tempests…
(Jeremiah, XXIII.6) My God, how perfect are Thy ways! But mine polluted are; Sin twines itself about my praise, And slides into my prayer.
To be remembered thus is fame, And in the first degree; And did the few like her the same, The press might sleep for me. So Homer, in the memory stored
Lady! It cannot be, but that thin… Must be my sun, such radiance they… And strike me ev’n as Phoebus him… Through torrid Libya’s sandy dese… Meantime, on that side steamy vapo…
Doomed, as I am, in solitude to w… The present moments, and regret th… Deprived of every joy I valued mo… My friend torn from me, and my mis… Call not this gloom I wear, this…
Written when the news arrived. Toll for the brave! The brave that are no more! All sunk beneath the wave Fast by their native shore.
To Jesus, the crown of my hope, My soul is in haste to be gone; O bear me, ye cherubim, up, And waft me away to His throne! My Saviour, whom absent I love,
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…
No strength of nature can suffice To serve the Lord aright: And what she has she misapplies, For want of clearer light. How long beneath the law I lay
The sparkling eye, the mantling ch… The polished front, the snowy neck… How seldom we behold in one! Glossy locks, and brow serene, Venus’ smiles, Diana’s mien,
Mortals! around your destined head… Thick fly the shafts of death, And lo! the savage spoiler spreads A thousand toils beneath. In vain we trifle with our fate,