#EnglishWriters
They mock my toil—the nymphs and a… And whence this fond attempt to wr… Love-songs in language that thou l… How dar’st thou risque to sing the… Say truly. Find’st not oft thy pu…
Of all the gifts Thine hand besto… Thou Giver of all good! Not heaven itself a richer knows Than my Redeemer’s blood. Faith too, the blood-receiving gra…
Not a flower can be found in the f… Or the spot that we till for our p… From the largest to the least, but… The bee never wearied a treasure. Scarce any she quits unexplored
(excerpt) Hark! ’tis the twanging horn! o’er… That with its wearisome but needfu… Bestrides the wintry flood, in whi… Sees her unwrinkled face reflected…
Winter has a joy for me, While the Saviour’s charms I read… Lowly, meek, from blemish free, In the snowdrop’s pensive head. Spring returns, and brings along
The poplars are felled, farewell t… And the whispering sound of the co… The winds play no longer and sing… Nor Ouse on his bosom their image… Twelve years have elapsed since I…
When, long sequestered from his th… George took his seat again, By right of worth, not blood alone Entitled here to reign; Then, Loyalty, with all his lamps
Oh that Pieria’s spring would thr… Pour its inspiring influence, and… No rill, but rather an o’erflowing… That, for my venerable Father’s s… All meaner themes renounced, my M…
Gracious Lord, our children see, By Thy mercy we are free; But shall these, alas! remain Subjects still of Satan’s reign? Israel’s young ones, when of old
Thou hast no lightnings, O thou J… Or I their force should know; And, if thou strike me into dust, My soul approves the blow. The heart, that values less its ea…
A miser traversing his house, Espied, unusual there, a mouse, And thus his uninvited guest Briskly inquisitive address’d: ‘Tell me, my dear, to what cause i…
Night! how I love thy silent shad… My spirits they compose; The bliss of heaven my soul pervad… In spite of all my woes. While sleep instils her poppy dews
‘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,
These verses also to thy praise th… Oh Manso! happy in that theme des… For, Gallus and Maecenas gone, th… None such besides, or whom they lo… And, if my verse may give the meed…
Other stones the era tell, When some feeble mortal fell; I stand here to date the birth Of these hardy sons of earth. Which shall longest brave the sky,