#IrishWriters
All of us in one you’ll find, Bre… Yet among us all no brother Knows one tittle of the other; We in frequent councils are, And our marks of things declare,
IN ancient times, as story tells, The saints would often leave their… And stroll about, but hide their q… To try good people’s hospitality. It happened on a winter night,
TO THE LORD TREASURER… 1710 Atlas, we read in ancient song, Was so exceeding tall and strong, He bore the skies upon his back,
Her dead lady’s joy and comfort, Who departed this life The last day of March, 1727: To the great joy of Bryan That his antagonist is gone.
Because I am by nature blind, I wisely choose to walk behind; However, to avoid disgrace, I let no creature see my face. My words are few, but spoke with s…
When on my bosom thy bright eyes, Florinda, dart their heavenly beam… I feel not the least love surprise… Yet endless tears flow down in str… There’s nought so beautiful in the…
“His Grace! impossible! what, dea… Of old age too, and in his bed! And could that mighty warrior fall… And so inglorious, after all? Well, since he’s gone, no matter h…
The rod was but a harmless wand, While Moses held it in his hand; But, soon as e’er he laid it down, Twas a devouring serpent grown. Our great magician, Hamet Sid,
Come hither, and behold the fruits… Vain man! of all thy vain pursuits… Take wise advice, and look behind, Bring all past actions to thy mind… Here you may see, as in a glass,
Resolved my gratitude to show, Thrice reverend Dean, for all I o… Too long I have my thanks delay’d… Your favours left too long unpaid; But now, in all our sex’s name,
Dingley and Brent, Wherever they went, Ne’er minded a word that was spoke… Whatever was said, They ne’er troubled their head,
Charming oysters I cry: My masters, come buy, So plump and so fresh, So sweet is their flesh, No Colchester oyster
When a holy black Swede, the son… With a saint at his chin and a sea… Shall not see one New-Years-day i… Then let old England make good ch… Windsor and Bristol then shall be
Never sleeping, still awake, Pleasing most when most I speak; The delight of old and young, Though I speak without a tongue. Nought but one thing can confound…
There is a gate, we know full well… That stands 'twixt Heaven, and Ea… Where many for a passage venture, Yet very few are fond to enter: Although ’tis open night and day,