#EnglishWriters
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,
The lady thus address’d her spouse… What a mere dungeon is this house! By no means large enough; and was… Yet this dull room, and that dark… Those hangings with their worn-out…
Romney, expert infallibly to trace On chart of canvas, not the form a… And semblance, but, however faintl… The mind’s impression too on every… With strokes that time ought never…
The astrologers did all alike pres… My uncle’s dying in extreme old ag… One only disagreed. But he was wi… And spoke not till he heard the fu…
His master taken from his head, Elisha saw him go; And in desponding accents said, ‘Ah, what must Israel do?’ But he forgot the Lord who lifts
Oft we embrace our ills by discont… And give them bulk beyond what nat… A parent, brother, friend deceased… ‘He’s dead indeed, but he was born… Such temperate grief is suited to…
Beware, my friend! of crystal broo… Or fountain, lest that hideous hoo… Thy nose, thou chance to see; Narcissus’ fate would then be thin… And self-detested thou wouldst pin…
As birds their infant brood protec… And spread their wings to shelter… Thus saith the Lord to His elect, ‘So will I guard Jerusalem.’ And what then is Jerusalem,
’Twas in the glad season of spring… Asleep at the dawn of the day, I dream’d what I cannot but sin… So pleasant it seem’d as I lay. I dream’d that, on ocean afloat,
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
He lives who lives to God alone, And all are dead beside; For other source than God is none Whence life can be supplied. To live to God is to requite
Reasoning at every step he treads, Man yet mistakes his way, While meaner things whom instinct… Are rarely known to stray. One silent eve I wandered late,
In vain ye woo me to your harmless… Ye pleasant bowers, remote from st… Your shades, the witnesses of many… Breathed forth in happier days, ar… Denied that smile ’twas once my he…
Fortune! I thank thee: gentle god… Not that my muse, though bashful,… She would have thank’d thee rath… A treasure in her way; for neither… Of early breakfast, to dispel the…
Reader! behold a monument That asks no sigh or tear, Though it perpetuate the event Of a great burial here.
