#EnglishWriters
Sir, As once a twelvemonth to the pries… Holy at Rome, here Antichrist, The Spanish king presents a jenne… To show his love,—that’s all that’…
Dum studeo fungi fallentis munere… Adfectoque viam sedibus Elysiis Arctoa florens sophia, Samiisque… Discipulis, animas morte carere ca… Has ego corporibus profugas ad sid…
Well, I will never more complain, Or call the Fates unkind; Alas! how fond it is, how vain! But self-conceitedness does reign I nevery mortal mind.
Frank carves very ill, yet will pa… He eats more than six, and drinks… Four pipes after dinner he constan… And seasons his whiffs with impert… Yet sighing, he says we must certa…
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
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…
Tway Mice, full Blythe and Amica… Batten beside Erle Robert’s Tabl… Lies there ne Trap their Necks to… Ne old black Cat their Steps to w… Their Fill they eat of Fowl and…
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…
Alexis shun’d his Fellow Swains, Their rural Sports, and jocund St… (Heav’n guard us all from Cupid’s… He lost his Crook, He left his F… And wand’ring thro’ the lonely Ro…
When Jove lay bless’d in his Alcm… Three nights in one he press’d her… The sun lay set, and conscious nat… To shade her god, and to prolong h… From that auspicious night Alcide…
THE merchant, to secure his treas… Conveys it in a borrow’d name: Euphelia serves to grace my measur… But Chloe is my real flame. My softest verse, my darling lyre,
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…
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…
The merchant, to secure his treasu… Conveys it in a borrow’d name: Euphelia serves to grace my measur… But Cloe is my real flame. My softest verse, my darling lyre,
Poor Hal caught his death standin… Expecting till midnight when Nan… But fatal his patience, as cruel t… And cursed was the weather that qu… Whoe’er thou art that reads these…