#EnglishWriters
Tune - 'Lady Isabella’s Tragedy.… Of Nero, tyrant, petty king, Who heretofore did reign In famed Hibernia, I will sing, And in a ditty plain.
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;
Sphinx was a monster that would ea… Whatever stranger she could get, Unless his ready wit disclosed The subtile riddle she proposed. OEdipus was resolved to go
Strephonetta, why d’ye fly me, With such rigour in your eyes: Oh! ’tis cruel to deny me, Since your charms I so much prize… But I plainly see the reason
Did sweeter Sounds adorn my flowi… Than ever Man pronounc’d, or Ange… Had I all Knowledge, Human and D… That Thought can reach, or Scienc… And had I Pow’r to give that Kno…
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
Since by ill fate I’m forced away… And snatch’d so soon from those de… Against my will I must obey, And leave those sweet endearing ch… Yet still love on, and never fear
Here reading how fond Adam was be… And how by sin Eve’s blasted char… Our common loss unjustly you compl… So small that part of it which you… You still, fair mother, in your of…
Fire, Water, Woman, are Man’s Ru… Says wise Professor Vander Bruin… By Flames a House I hir’d was lo… Last Year: and I must pay the Co… This Spring the Rains o’erflow’d…
Out from the injured canvas, Knel… These lines too faint; the picture… Exalt thy thought, and try thy toi… Dreadful in arms, on Landen’s glo… Place Ormond’s Duke: impendent in…
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…
Love! inform thy faithful creature How to keep his fair one’s heart; Must it be by truth of nature, Or by poor dissembling art? Tell the secret, show the wonder,
That all from Adam first began, None but ungodly Whiston doubts, And that his son and his son’s son Were all but ploughmen, clowns, an… Each when his rustic pains began
Lords, knights, and squires, the n… That wear the fair Miss Mary’s fe… Were summon’d by her high command, To show their passions by their le… My pen amongst the rest I took,
Behind an unfrequented glade, Where yew and myrtle MIX their s… A widow Turtle pensive sat, And wept her murder’d lover’s fate… The Sparrow chanced that way to w…