#EnglishWriters
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…
Hah! how the laurel, great Apollo… And all the cavern shakes! Far of… The man that is unhallow’d: for th… The god approaches. Hark! he knoc… Feel the glad impulse, and the sev…
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…
As after noon, one summer’s day, Venus stood bathing in a river; Cupid a-shooting went that way, New strung his bow, new fill’d his… With skill he chose his sharpest d…
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.
When Nell, given o’er by the doct… And John at the chimney stood dec… ’Tis in vain said the woman to mak… For to our long home we must all o… True, Nell, replied John; but wha…
What charms you have, from what hi… Have been the pleasing subjects of… Unskill’d and young, yet something… Of Ca’ndish’ beauty, join’d to Ce… But when you please to show the la…
Recit. Beneath a verdant laurel’s ample s… His lyre to mournful numbers strun… Horace, immortal bard supinely lai… To Venus thus address’d the song;
How long, deluded Albion, wilt th… In the lethargic sleep, the sad re… By which thy close thy constant en… Has softly lull’d thee to thy woes… Or wake, degenerate isle, or cease…
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…
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
The bewailing of man’s miseries hath been elegantly and copiously set forth by many, in the writings as well of philosophers as divines; and it is both a pleasant and a profitable conte...
Let 'em Censure: what care I? The Herd of Criticks I defie. Let the Wretches know, I write Regardless of their Grace, or Spi… No, no: the Fair, the Gay, the Y…
While with labour assiduous due pl… And in one day atone for the busin… In a little Dutch chaise, on a Sa… On my left hand my Horace, a W* o… No memoirs to compose, and no post…
Miss Danae, when Fair and Young (As Horace has divinely sung) Could not be kept from Jove’s Emb… By Doors of Steel, and Walls of… The Reason of the Thing is clear;