#EnglishWriters
When all within is peace, How nature seems to smile; Delights that never cease, The live-long day beguile. From morn to dewy eve,
To watch the storms, and hear the… Give all our almanacks the lie; To shake with cold, and see the pl… In autumn drown’d with wintry rain… ’Tis thus I spend my moments here…
Madam,—A stranger’s purpose in th… Is to congratulate and not to prai… To give the creature the Creator’… Were sin in me, and an offence to… From man to man, or e’en to woman…
It is not from his form, in which… Strength join’d with beauty, digni… That man, the master of this globe… His right of empire over all that… That form, indeed, the associate o…
Lord, who hast suffer’d all for me… My peace and pardon to procure, The lighter cross I bear for Thee… Help me with patience to endure. The storm of loud repining hush;
Bewail not much, my parents! me, t… Of ruthless Ades, and sepulchred… An infant, in my fifth scarce fini… He found all sportive, innocent, a… Your young Callimachus; and if I…
The swallows in their torpid state Compose their useless wing, And bees in hives as idly wait The call of early spring. The keenest frost that binds the s…
Nor oils of balmy scene produce, Nor mirror for Minerva’s use, Ye nymphs who lave her; she, array… In genuine beauty, scorns their ai… Not even when they left the skies,
There is in souls a sympathy with… And as the mind is pitch’d the ear… With melting airs, or martial, bri… Some chord in unison with what we… Is touch’d within us, and the hear…
Dear Anna,—Between friend and fri… Prose answers every common end; Serves, in a plain and homely way, To express the occurrence of the d… Our health, the weather, and the n…
Praise in old time the sage Prome… Who stole ethereal radiance from t… But greater he, whose bold inventi… To emulate the fiery bolts of Jov…
Still, still, without ceasing, I feel it increasing, This fervour of holy desire; And often exclaim, Let me die in the flame
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,
Could Homer come himself, distres… And tune his harp at Rhedicina’s… The rich old vixen would exclaim,… ‘Begone! no tramper gets a farthin…
(Phillipians, IV.11) Fierce passions discompose the min… As tempests vex the sea, But calm, content and peace we fin… When, Lord, we turn to Thee.