#Irish
As thro’ the Psalms from theme to… Methinks like Eve in Paradice I… And ev’ry grace of song I seem’d… As the gay pride of ev’ry season,… She gently treading all the walks…
Look mercyfully down O Lord & wash us from our sinn Cleanse us from wicked deeds witho… from wicked thoughts within Lord I Confess my many sinns
Phillis I long yr powr have ownd & you still gently swayd Now nature has yr charms dethrond & time your chain decayd Both are wth such perversness curs…
The beam-repelling mists arise, And evening spreads obscurer skies… The twilight will the night foreru… And night itself be soon begun. Upon thy knees devoutly bow,
Hail to the sacred silence of this… Hail to the greens below the green… Oft have I found beneath these sh… A reall in imaginary bliss for they my fancy sooth she’s a c…
As Nelly to a chamber got To take her leave of Ned She loosd her lace & Cast a k… (Ah why unlacd the maid.). Now pull the further end she cryd
When thy beauty appears In its graces and airs All bright as an angel new dropp’d… At distance I gaze and am awed by… So strangely you dazzle my eye!
When thy Beauty appears In its Graces and Airs, All bright as an Angel new dropt… At distance I gaze, and am aw’d b… So strangely you dazzle my Eye!
Some ages has the stage triumphant… and vice in masquerade debauchd th… In charming numbers, all bewitchin… has the gay syren drest to steal o… like undesigning pleasure she appe…
Our Carys a Delicate Poet; for W… For having writt? No: but for hav…
Gay Bacchus liking B—s wine A noble meal bespoke & for ye guests that were to d… Brought Comus Love & Joke The God near Cupid drew his chair
Grant heav’n that I may chuse my… If you design me worldly Happines… Tis not Honour thats but air Glory has but fancied light Fame as oft speak’s false as right
& tis too true alass! we find,… Virtue from earth a second time is… She onely then with her two sister… But now since he, what ere were go… Uncertain where to fix, in him the…
Upon a Bed of humble clay In all her Garments loose A Prostitute my Mother lay To ev’ry Comer’s use. ‘Till one Gallant in heat of love
Vast was his soul some favorite ab… Whose bolder pencil made a boy of… A boy he thought him lovers less t… Who barter all things for a crop o… He wisely too his roving pow’r bes…