#EnglishWriters
God of my life, to Thee I call, Afflicted at Thy feet I fall; When the great water-floods prevai… Leave not my trembling heart to fa… Friend of the friendless and the f…
That ocean you have late surveyed, Those rocks I too have seen; But I, afflicted and dismayed, You tranquil and serene. You from the flood-controlling ste…
The new-born child of gospel grace… Like some fair tree when summer’s… Beneath Emmanuel’s shining face Lifts up his blooming branch on hi… No fears he feels, he sees no foes…
Ye Nymphs of Himera (for ye have… Erewhile for Daphnis and for Hyla… And over Bion’s long-lamented bie… The fruitless meed of many a sacre… Now, through the villas laved by…
While thirteen moons saw smoothly… The Nen’s barge-laden wave, All these, life’s rambling journey… Have found their home, the grave. Was man (frail always) made more f…
Airy del Castro was as bold a kni… As ever earned a lady’s love in fi… Many he sought, but one above the… His tender heart victoriously impr… In fairy land was born the matchle…
To tell the Saviour all my wants, How pleasing is the task! Nor less to praise Him when He gr… Beyond what I can ask. My laboring spirit vainly seeks
Sweet bird, whom the winter constr… And seldom another it can— To seek a retreat while he reigns In the well-shelter’d dwellings of… Who never can seem to intrude,
Me to whatever state the gods assi… Believe, my love, whatever state b… Ne’er shall my breast one anxious… Ne’er shall my heart confess a rea… If to thy share heaven’s choicest…
Jealous, and with love o’erflowing… God demands a fervent heart; Grace and bounty still bestowing, Calls us to a grateful part. Oh, then, with supreme affection
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
O Lord, my best desire fulfil, And help me to resign Life, health, and comfort to Thy… And make Thy pleasure mine. Why whould I shrink at Thy comman…
To keep the lamp alive, With oil we fill the bowl; ’Tis water makes the willow thrive… And grace that feeds the soul. The Lord’s unsparing hand
SCENE I.—Adam and Eve. Oh, my beloved companion! Oh thou of my existence, The very heart and soul! Hast thou, with such excess of ten…
William was once a bashful youth, His modesty was such, That one might say, to say the tru… He rather had too much. Some said that it was want of sens…