#EnglishWriters
The Trojan swain had judged the g… And beauty’s power obtain’d the go… When Venus, loose in all her nake… Met Jove’s great daughter clad in… The wanton goddess view’d the warl…
When famed Varelst this little wo… Flora vouchsafed the growing works… Finding the painter’s science at a… The goddess snatch’d the pencil fr… And finishing the piece, she smili…
I sent for Ratcliffe, was so ill, That other doctors gave me over, He felt my pulse, prescribed his p… And I was likely to recover. But when the wit began to wheeze,
VENUS, take my votive glass: Since I am not what I was, What from this day I shall be, Venus, let me never see.
Sure Cloe Just, and Cloe Fair Deserves to be Your only Care: But when You and She to-day Far into the Wood did stray, And I happen’d to pass by;
Fast by the banks of Cam was Coli… (Ye Nymphs, for every guard that… To Wimple’s woody shade his way h… (Flourish those woods, the Muses’… As whilom Colin ancient books had…
Sly Merry Andrew, the last South… (At Bartholomew he did not much a… So peevish was the dict of the Ma… At Southwark, therefore, as his t… To please our masters, and his fri…
WHAT nymph should I admire or tr… But Chloe beauteous, Chloe just? What nymph should I desire to see… But her who leaves the plain for m… To whom should I compose the lay,
Written three hundred years since. Be it right or wrong, these men am… On women do complayne; Affyrmynge this, how that it is A labour spent in vaine
Nobles and Heralds, by your leave… Here lies what once was Matthew P… The son of Adam and of Eve; Can Stuart or Nassau claim higher…
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…
Spare, gen’rous victor, spare the… Who did unequal war pursue; That more than triumph he might ha… In being overcome by you. In the dispute whate’er I said,
Thy nags, the leanest things alive… So very hard thou lovest to drive, I heard thy anxious coachman say It costs thee more in whips than h…
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
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.
