#English
What can I say? What Arguments c… My Truth? What Colors can descri… If it’s Excess and Fury be not kn… In what Thy Celia has already don… Thy Infant Flames, whilst yet the…
Dear Cloe, how blubber’d is that… Thy cheek all on fire, and thy hai… Pr’ythee quit this caprice; and (a… Let us e’en talk a little like fol… How can’st thou presume, thou hast…
VENUS, take my votive glass: Since I am not what I was, What from this day I shall be, Venus, let me never see.
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…
LORDS, knights, and squires, the… That wear the fair Miss Mary’s… Were summoned by her high command To show their passions by their… My pen amongst the rest I took,
Nobles and Heralds, by your leave… Here lie the bones of Matthew Pri… A son of Adam and Eve: Let Bourbon or Nassau go higher.
Dear Howard, from the soft assaul… Poets and painters never are secur… Can I untouch’d the fair one’s pa… Or thou draw beauty, and not feel… To great Appelles when young Ammo…
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…
Forbear to ask Me, why I weep; Vext Cloe to her Shepherd said: ’Tis for my Two poor stragling Sh… Perhaps, or for my Squirrel dead. For mind I what You late have wri…
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
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…
The merchant, to secure his treasu… Conveys it in a borrowed name: Euphelia serves to grace my measur… But Cloe is my real flame. My softest verse, my darling lyre
Spare, generous 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,
Some kind angel, gently flying, Moved with pity at my pain, Tell Corinna I am dying Till with joy we meet again. Tell Corinna, since we parted
Cloe beauty has, and wit, And an air that is not common; Every charm in her does meet, Fit to make a handsome woman. But we do not only find