#EnglishWriters
Will Piggot must to Coxwould go, To live, alas! in want, Unless Sir Thomas say, No, no, Th’ allowance is too scant. The gracious knight full well does…
Forgive the muse who, in unhallow’… The saint one moment from his God… For sure whate’er you do, where’er… ’Tis all but one good work, one co… Forgive her; and entreat that God…
Heavy, O Lord, on my thy judgemen… Accursed I am while God rejects m… O’erwhelm’d in darkness and despai… And every place is hell, for God… O Lord, arise, and let thy beams…
Once on a time, in sunshine weathe… Falsehood and Truth walk’d out to… The neighbouring woods and lawns t… As opposites will sometimes do: Through many a blooming mead they…
The circling months begin this day To run their yearly ring, And long-breathed time, which ne’e… Refits his wings and shoots away, It round again to bring.
Accept, my Love, as true a heart As ever lover gave; ’Tis free (it vows) from my art, And proud to be your slave. Then take it kindly, as ’twas mean…
Nanny blushes when I woo her, And with kindly chiding eyes Faintly says I shall undo her; Faintly, O, forbear! she cries. But her breasts while I am pressi…
Wiessen and nature held a long con… If she created or he painted best; With pleasing thought the wondrous… She still form’d fairer, he still… In these seven brethren they conte…
Ma petite ame, ma mignonne, Tu t’en vas donc, máfille, et Die… Tu pars seulette, nuë, et tremblo… Que deviendra ton humeur folichonn… Que deviendront tant de jolis ébat…
While from our looks, fair nymph,… The secret passions of our mind; My heavy eyes, you say, confess A heart to love and grief inclined… There needs, alas! but little art
In vain, alas! poor Strephon trie… To ease his tortured breast, Since Amoret the cure denies, And makes his pain a jest. Ah! fair one, why to me so coy,
In vain you tell your parting love… You wish fair winds may waft him o… Alas! what winds can happy prove That bear me far from what I love… Alas! what dangers on the main
Hans Carvel, impotent and old, Married a lass of London mould. Handsome? Enough; extremely gay; Loved music, company, and play: High flights she had, and wit at w…
Dear Cloe, how blubber’d is that… Thy cheek all on fire, and thy hai… Pr’ythee quit this caprice; and (a… Let us e’en talk a little like fol… How can’st thou presume, thou hast…
My Lord, Our weekly friends to-morrow meet At Matthew’s palace in Duke-stree… To try for once if they can dine On bacon-ham and mutton-chine.