#EnglishWriters
The pride of every grove I chose, The violet sweet and lily fair, The dappled pink and blushing rose… To deck my charming Cloe’s hair. At morn the nymph vouchsafed to pl…
Poor, little, pretty, fluttering t… Must we no longer live together? And dost thou prune thy trembling… To take thy flight thou know’st no… Thy humorous vein, thy pleasing fo…
Phillis, this pious talk give o’er… And modesty pretend no more, It is too plain an art: Surely you take me for a fool, And would by this prove me so dull
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…
When future ages shall with wonder… These glorious lines which Harley… They shall confess that Britain c… A fairer column to the father’s pr…
Her time with equal prudence Silv… First writes her billet-doux, then… Her mass and toilette, vespers, an… Thus God and Ashtaroth divide the… Constant she keeps her Ember-week…
When crowding folks, with strange… Were making legs, and begging plac… And some with patents, some with m… Tired out my good Lord Dorset’s s… Sneaking I stood amongst the crew…
Say, dearest Villiers, poor depar… (Since fleeting life thus suddenly… Say, what did all thy busy hopes a… That anxious thou from pole to pol… Ere on thy chin the springing bear…
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…
Matthew met Richard, when or wher… From story is not mighty clear: Of many knotty points they spoke, And pro and con by turns they too… Rats half the manuscript have ate;
Bless’d be the princes who have fo… For pompous names or wide dominion… Since by their error we are taught That happiness is but opinion.
Haste, my Nannette, My lovely maid, Haste to the bower Thy swain has made. For thee alone
See, whilst Thou weep’st, fair Cl… The World in Sympathy with Thee. The chearful Birds no longer sing… Each drops his Head, and hangs hi… The Clouds have bent their Bosom…
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…
VENUS, take my votive glass: Since I am not what I was, What from this day I shall be, Venus, let me never see.