#EnglishWriters
Since, Moggy, I mun bid adieu, How can I help despairing? Let cruel Fate us still pursue, There’s nought more worth my carin… ’Twas she alone could calm my soul
At dead of night, when stars appea… And strong Bootes turns the Bear, When mortals sleep their cares awa… Fatigued with labours of the day, Cupid was knocking at my gate;
When Bibo thought fit from the wo… As full of Champagne as an egg’s… He waked in the boat, and to Char… He would be row’d back, for he was… Trim the boat and sit quiet, stern…
Dulce est desipere in loco. Some Folks are drunk, yet do not… So might not Bacchus give You La… Was it a Muse, O lofty Poet, Or Virgin of St. Cyr, You saw?
Madam, Since Anna visited the mus… (Around her tomb let weeping angel… Hail, thou, the brightest of thy s… Most gracious neighbour and most w… Not Harley’s self, to Cam and Is…
Solomon considers man through the several stages and conditions of life, and concludes, in general, that we are all miserable. He reflects more particularly upon the trouble and uncerta...
On his death-bed poor Lubin lies: His spouse is in despair: With frequent sobs, and mutual cri… They both express their care. A different cause, says Parson Sl…
Forbear to ask Me, why I weep; Vext Cloe to her Shepherd said: ’Tis for my Two poor stragling Sh… Perhaps, or for my Squirrel dead. For mind I what You late have wri…
Come, weep no more, for ’tis in va… Torment not thus your pretty heart… Think, Flavia, we may meet again, As well as that we now must part. You sigh and weep; the gods neglec…
Say, sire of insects, mighty Sol, (A fly upon the chariot-pole Cries out) What blue-bottle alive Did ever with such fury drive? Tell Beelzebub, great Father, tel…
Hier, l’Amour touche du son Que rendoit ma lire qu’il aime, Me promit pour une chanson, Deux baisers de sa mere mesme. Non, luy dis-je, tu scals mes voeu…
See, whilst Thou weep’st, fair Cl… The World in Sympathy with Thee. The chearful Birds no longer sing… Each drops his Head, and hangs hi… The Clouds have bent their Bosom…
Of thy judicious Muse’s sense, Young Hinchinbroke so very proud… That Sacharissa and Hortense She looks henceforth upon as dowdi… Yet she to one must still submit,
Dear Chloe, how blubber’d is that… Thy cheek all on fire, and thy hai… Prythee quit this caprice; and (as… Let us e’en talk a little like fol… How canst thou presume, thou hast…
Beneath a Myrtle’s verdant Shade As Cloe half asleep was laid, Cupid perch’d lightly on Her Brea… And in That Heav’n desir’d to res… Over her Paps his Wings He sprea…