#English
In one great man we view with odds A parallel to all the gods. Great Jove, that shook heaven wit… Could never match his princely bow… In him a Bacchus we behold:
SISTER. Do, my dearest brother John, Let that butterfly alone. BROTHER. What harm now do I do?
What’s Life still changing ev’ry… Tis all the seasons in a Day! The Smile, the Tear, the Sun, th… Tis now December, now tis May At morn we hail some envied Queen…
I have had playmates, I have had… In my days of childhood, in my joy… All, all are gone, the old familia… I have been laughing, I have been… Drinking late, sitting late, with…
While young John runs to greet The greater Infant’s feet, The Mother standing by, with trem… Of devout admiration, Beholds the engaging mystic play,…
Thou too art dead, ——! very kind Hast thou been to me in my childis… Thou best good creature. I have n… How thou didst love thy Charles,… A prating school—boy: I have not…
Henry was every morning fed With a full mess of milk and bread… One day the boy his breakfast took… And eat it by a purling brook Which through his mother’s orchard…
I have taught your young lips the… Which form the petition we call th… And now let me help my dear child… The meaning of all the good words… ‘Our Father,’—the same appellatio…
Not a woman, child, or man in All this isle, that loves thee, C… Fools, whom gentle manners sway, May incline to C—gh, Princes, who old ladies love,
Horatio, of ideal courage vain, Was flourishing in air his father’… And, as the fumes of valour swelle… Now thought himself this hero, and… ‘And now,’ he cried, 'I will Achi…
In many a lecture, many a book, You all have heard, you all have r… That time is precious. Of its use Much has been written, much been s… The accomplishments which gladden…
One Sunday eve a grave old man, Who had not been at church, did sa… ‘Eliza, tell me, if you can, What text our Doctor took to—day?… She hung her head, she blushed for…
With the apples and the plums Little Carolina comes, At the time of the dessert she Comes and drops her last new curts… Graceful curtsy, practised o’er
Come, my little Robert, near— Fie! what filthy hands are here— Who that e’er could understand The rare structure of a hand, With its branching fingers fine,
May the Babylonish curse, Strait confound my stammering vers… If I can a passage see In this word—perplexity, Or a fit expression find,
