#EnglishWriters
Survivor sole, and hardly such, of… That once lived here, thy brethren… (Since which I number threescore… A shattered veteran, hollow-trunke… As now, and with excoriate forks d…
To purify their wine some people b… A lamb into the barrel, and succee… No nostrum, planters say, is half… To make fine sugar, as a negro’s b… Now lambs and negroes both are har…
How bless’d Thy creature is, O G… When with a single eye, He views the lustre of Thy Word, The dayspring from on high! Through all the storms that veil t…
Poets attempt the noblest task the… Praising the Author of all good i… And, next, commemorating Worthies… The dead in whom that good abounde… Thee, therefore, of commercial fam…
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…
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
I was of late a barren plant, Useless, insignificant, Nor fig, nor grape, nor apple bore… A native of the marshy shore; But, gather’d for poetic use,
(Proverbs, VIII. 22-31) “Ere God had built the mountains, Or raised the fruitful hills; Before he fill’d the fountains That feed the running rills;
Ye Nymphs, if e’er your eyes were… With tears o’er hapless favourites… Oh, share Maria’s grief! Her favourite, even in his cage, (What will not hunger’s cruel rage…
A poet’s cat, sedate and grave As poet well could wish to have, Was much addicted to inquire For nooks to which she might retir… And where, secure as mouse in chin…
(Mark, XI.17) Thy mansion is the Christian’s he… O Lord, Thy dwelling place secure… Bid the unruly throng depart, And leave the consecrated door.
With two spurs or one, and no grea… Boots bought, or boots borrow’d, a… Five shillings or less for the hir… Paid part into hand;—you must wait… Thus equipt, Academicus climbs up…
Grace, triumphant in the throne, Scorns a rival, reigns alone; Come and bow beneath her sway; Cast your idol works away! Works of man, when made his plea,
Believe it or not, as you choose, The doctrine is certainly true, That the future is known to the M… And poets are oracles too. I did but express a desire,
To those who love the Lord I spea… Is my Beloved near? The Bridegroom of my soul I seek, Oh! when will He appear? Though once a man of grief and sha…