#English #Women
May each new Year some new Perfec… Till all the Mother in the Daught… May’st Thou her Virtues to the W… And be what Henrietta was before! And when revolving Years mature t…
’Tis said, for ev’ry common Grief The Muses can afford Relief: And, surely, on that heav’nly Tra… A Boyle can never call in vain. Then strait invoke the sacred Nin…
Obrian, were in Story told, Thy Ancestors wore Crowns of old: In fair Hibernia’s Isle they reig… A Country, by their Sons disdain’… Too apt to charge their Native Is…
Contented in my humble State, I look with Pity on the Great; Who only Birth, or Wealth, respec… And treat true Merit with neglect… O Pow’r supreme! let me implore
See, the bright Sun renews his an… Each Beam re—tinges, and revives… By Years uninjur’d; so may’st tho… Not Time from thee, but thou from… O might the Fates thy vital Threa…
To you, Athenians, we again submi… Reward, or punish us, as you think… Let Idleness, unpity’d, meet Disg… For Idleness, this Year, is doubl… This is the Æra, this the destin’d…
Let Others speak your Titles, and… Accept from Me the glorious Name… This Honour only from fair Virtue… Ennobles Slaves, adds Dignity to… O Born to shew Nobility design’d
Sincerity, what are thy Views; No more my Breast attend. By thee, alas! we often lose, But seldom gain a Friend. No more with dang’rous Zeal presu…
Go, Jealousy, Tormentress dire; On Lovers only seize: In Love, like Winds, you fan the… And make it higher blaze. But Friendship’s calmer, purer Jo…
’Tis theirs, who but to please asp… On Fiction to employ the Lyre; Make Gods and Goddesses display The Splendor of the Nuptial Day. To paint thee at the hallow’d Shr…
Start not, nor tremble at the Sig… It comes not written from the Rea… ’Tis true, you see, your once—lov’… Thence may conclude from Heav’n s… Conscious perhaps of your celestia…
A sight like this, who can unmov’d… Impartial Muse, can’st thou with—… See the freed Captives hail their… And tread the Land of Liberty onc… See, as they pass, the crouding P…
Is what we owe great William then Forgotten by ungrateful Men? And has His Fame run out its Dat… Who snatch’d us from the Brink of… Else, why should Scholars, Sir,…
How well these Laymen love to gib… And throw their Jests on Levi’s… Must One be toil’d to Death, they… Whilst other Priests are yawning… Forgetful that He reaps the Gain,
O thou, my beauteous, ever tender… Thou, on whom all my worldly Joys… Accept these Numbers; and with Pl… Unstudy’d Truth, which few, alas!… While conscious Virtue takes the…