#EnglishWriters #FemaleWriters
The Sun’s my Fire, when it does s… The hollow Spring’s my Cave of W… The Rocks and Woods afford me Me… This Lamb and I on one Dish eat: The neighbouring Herds my Garment…
In Answer to his Complemental Ve… Long my dull Muse in heavy slumbe… Indulging Sloth, and to soft Ease… Her Fill of Rest resolving to enj… Or fancying little worthy her empl…
Amintor. Stay gentle Nymph, nor s… To fly his sight that still would… With other Swaines I see thee oft… Content to speak, and hear what th… But I unhappy, when I e’re draw n…
Tell me thou safest End of all ou… Why wreched Mortals do avoid thee… Thou gentle drier o’th’ afflicteds… Thou noble ender of the Cowards F… Thou sweet Repose to Lovers sad d…
We are Diana’s Virgin-Train, Descended of no Mortal Strain; Our Bows and Arrows are our Good… Our Pallaces, the lofty Woods, The Hills and Dales, at early Mo…
Whose Lord was Travelling. No sooner I pronounced Celindas n… But Troops of wing’d Pow’rs did c… Not those the Poets Bows and Arr… But such as on the Altar do atten…
Next Heaven my Vows to thee (O S… I offer’d up, nor didst thou them… O Queen of Verse, said I, if tho… And warm my Soul with thy Poetiqu… No Love of Gold shall share with…
1 In that so temperate Soil Arc… 1 For fertile Pasturage by Poet… 2 Stands a steep Hill, whose lo… 3 Casts o’er the neighbouring P… 4 Close at its mossie Foot an a…
On GALLA. Now liquid Streams by the fierce… As solid as the Rocks from whence… Now Tibers Banks with Ice united… And it’s firm Stream may well be…
As you are Young, if you’l be als… Danger with Honour court, Quarrel… Believe you then are truly Brave… To Beauty when no Slave, and less… When Vertue you dare own, not thi…
Afflicted upon her Son, My Lord… So the renowned Ithacensian Queen In Tears for her Telemachus was s… When leaving Home, he did attempt… Of rageing Seas, to seek his abse…
On an ATHEIST. Posthumus boasts he does not Thun… And for this cause would Innocent… That in his Soul no Terrour he do… At threatn’d Vultures, or Ixion’s…
Drown’d under London-bridge, in t… The Darling of a Father Good and… The Vertue, which a Vertuous Age… The Beauty Excellent even to thos… Subscrib’d unto, by such as might…
Divine Thalia strike th’ Harmonio… But with a Stroke so Gentle as ma… The silent gliding of the Howers, Or yet the calmer growth of Flowe… Th’ ascending or the falling Dew,
FArewel ye Unsubstantial Joyes, Ye Gilded Nothings, Gaudy Toyes, Too long ye have my Soul misled, Too long with Aiery Diet fed: But now my Heart ye shall no more