#EnglishWriters
Sauntering along the street one da… On trifles musing by the way, Up steps a free familiar wight; (I scarcely knew the man by sight.… ‘Carlos (he cried), your hand, my…
Cowper, whose silver voice, tasked… Legends prolix delivers in the ear… (Attentive when thou read’st) of… Let verse at length yield thee thy… Thou wast not heard with drowsy di…
Breathe from the gentle south, O… And cheer me from the north; Blow on the treasures of thy word, And call the spices forth! I wish, Thou knowest, to be resig…
I sing of a journey to Clifton, We would have perform’d if we coul… Without cart or barrow to lift on Poor Mary and me through the mud; Slee, sla, slud,
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
Did not my Muse (what can she les… Perceive her own unworthiness, Could she by some well-chosen them… But hope to merit your esteem, She would not thus conceal her lay…
‘Ere God had built the mountains, Or raised the fruitful hills; Before he fill’d the fountains That feed the running rills; In me from everlasting,
I place an offering at thy shrine, From taint and blemish clear, Simple and pure in its design, Of all that I hold dear. I yield thee back thy gifts again,
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,
Mycilla dyes her locks, ’tis said: But ’tis a foul aspersion; She buys them black; they therefor… No subsequent immersion.
Boy, I hate their empty shows, Persian garlands I detest, Bring not me the late-blown rose, Lingering after all the rest. Plainer myrtle pleases me,
On the green margin of the brook, Despairing Phyllida reclined, Whilst every sigh, and every look, Declared the anguish of her mind. Am I less lovely then? (she cries…
Eldest born of powers divine! Bless’d Hygeia! be it mine To enjoy what thou canst give, And henceforth with thee to live: For in power if pleasure be
Hic etiam jacet, Qui totum novennium vixit, Puss. Siste paulisper, Qui præteriturus es,
