#English #XVIIICentury
Hence, my epistle—skim the Deep—f… Yon smooth expanse to the Teutoni… Haste—lest a friend should grieve… And the Gods grant that nothing t… I will myself invoke the King who…
Wilds horrid and dark with o’er sh… Rocks that ivy and briers infold, Scenes nature with dread and aston… But I with a pleasure untold; Though awfully silent, and shaggy,…
The Lord receives his highest pra… From humble minds and hearts since… While all the loud professor says Offends the righteous Judge’s ear… To walk as children of the day,
To Jesus, the crown of my hope, My soul is in haste to be gone; O bear me, ye cherubim, up, And waft me away to His throne! My Saviour, whom absent I love,
Learn ye nations of the earth The condition of your birth, Now be taught your feeble state, Know, that all must yield to Fate… If the mournful Rover, Death,
Bewail not much, my parents! me, t… Of ruthless Ades, and sepulchred… An infant, in my fifth scarce fini… He found all sportive, innocent, a… Your young Callimachus; and if I…
Not a flower can be found in the f… Or the spot that we till for our p… From the largest to the least, but… The bee never wearied a treasure. Scarce any she quits unexplored
Dear Anna,—Between friend and fri… Prose answers every common end; Serves, in a plain and homely way, To express the occurrence of the d… Our health, the weather, and the n…
Dear Lord! accept a sinful heart, Which of itself complains, And mourns, with much and frequent… The evil it contains. There fiery seeds of anger lurk,
(Jeremiah, XXIII.6) My God, how perfect are Thy ways! But mine polluted are; Sin twines itself about my praise, And slides into my prayer.
Would my Delia know if I love, le… My last thought at night, and the… With my prayers and best wishes pr… Let her guess what I muse on, whe… I stride o’er the stubble each day…
The genius of the Augustan age His head among Rome’s ruins reare… And bursting with heroic rage, When literary Heron appeared, Thou hast, he cried, like him of o…
To tell the Saviour all my wants, How pleasing is the task! Nor less to praise Him when He gr… Beyond what I can ask. My laboring spirit vainly seeks
A spaniel, Beau, that fares like… Well fed, and at his ease, Should wiser be than to pursue Each trifle that he sees. But you have killed a tiny bird,
Maria! I have every good For thee wished many a time, Both sad and in a cheerful mood, But never yet in rhyme. To wish thee fairer is no need,