#EnglishWriters #FemaleWriters
Who can the hardest Task refuse, When lovely Lady Betty sues? If her Requests Resistance find, It must be from the Deaf and Blin…
To the late King of Britain a Sa… Which wild in the Woods of German… This Present so princely was trai… And knew how to eat, and to jump,… The Beaux, and the Belles, beheld…
When lately you acquitted me, With Carteret I din’d; And, in Return, (tho’ grievous) t… To Onslow I resign’d. ’Tis wise the happy Hour to seize…
Dear Psyche, come, with chearful… And bless this desolated Place. O come! my sickly Couch attend, And ease the Anguish of your Frie… Thy Soul, with ev’ry Grace supply…
When Ruin threaten’d me of late, With all its ghastly Train; Some Pow’r, in Pity to my Fate, Sent bountiful Germain, Her Soul is mov’d with my Distres…
Remote from Strife, from urban Th… Here dwells my Soul amidst domest… No ratling Coaches serious Though… Nor busy prating Fools my Peace d… Wrapt up in all the Sweets of rur…
An Epigram You cry, She’s bred in the Old W… Then into Laughter fall: Were she as just to you, she’d say… You are not bred at all.
See, in the Temple rais’d by Harl… His beauteous Off—spring at the A… There Mortimer resigns his darlin… To happy Portland gives the bloom… Where had the Parent’s Pray’r lik…
So little giv’n at Chapel Door!— This People doubtless must be poo… So much at Gaming thrown away!— No Nation sure so rich as they. Britons, ’twere greatly for your…
We of late had a terrible Rout in… If I happen’d to speak, I was sur… My Mamma had the Tooth—ach, and… O Steel, I for ever will yalue th… Both Children, and Servants, to t…
Thou glorious Ruler of the beaute… Have sev’nteen Years so swiftly r… Hast thou so oft the heav’nly Cir… When scarce I thought thy radiant… Never shall I my fleeting Time re…
This mourning Mother can with Eas… The Arts of Latium, and the Grec… Was early learn’d, nay more, was e… And knew the Pride of Science to… Left Men to take assuming Airs fr…
Tho’ the Plumb, and the Peach, wi… To present you their Softness, an… Their Aid is in vain; for what ca… But blush, and confess them selves… Where Virtue and Wit with such Q…
For give me, fair One, nor resent The Lines to you I lately sent. They seem, as if your Form you pr… And ev’ry other Gift despis’d: When a discerning Eye may find,
Fair Innocence, the Muses lovelic… On Acts of Mercy sound thy rising… Let others from frail Beauty hope… Plead thou the Fatherless, and Wi… Fly to your Mother; let each winn…