#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…
But shall we take the Muse abroad… To drop her idly on the road, And leave our subject in the middl… As Butler did his Bear and Fiddl… Yet he, consummate master, knew
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,
When Cloe’s Picture was to Venus… Surpriz’d, the Goddess took it fo… And what, said She, does this bol… When was I Bathing thus, and Nak… Pleas’d Cupid heard, and check’d…
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…
Hans Carvel, impotent and old, Married a lass of London mould. Handsome? Enough; extremely gay; Loved music, company, and play: High flights she had, and wit at w…
Madam, Since Anna visited the mus… (Around her tomb let weeping angel… Hail, thou, the brightest of thy s… Most gracious neighbour and most w… Not Harley’s self, to Cam and Is…
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…
Phillis, since we have both been k… And of each other had our fill, Tell me what pleasure you can find In forcing Nature 'gainst her wil… ’Tis true, you may, with art and p…
Whilst others proclaim This nymph or that swain, Dearest Nelly the lovely I’ll sin… She shall grace every verse, I’ll her beauties rehearse,
I have no hopes, the Duke he says… In sure and certain hopes - the pr… Of these two learned peers, I pr’… Who is the lying knave, the priest… The Duke he stands an infidel con…
Lie Philo untouch’d, on my peacea… Nor take it amiss that so little… I’ve no envy to thee, and some lov… Then why should I answer since fi… Drunk with Helicon’s waters, and…
Haste, my Nannette, My lovely maid, Haste to the bower Thy swain has made. For thee alone
In one great now, superior to an age, The full extremes of nature’s forc… How heavenly virtue can exalt, or… Infernal how degrade the human min…
Wiessen and nature held a long con… If she created or he painted best; With pleasing thought the wondrous… She still form’d fairer, he still… In these seven brethren they conte…