#English #Women
A mother, who vast Pleasure finds In modelling her Childrens Minds; With whom, in exquisite Delight, She passes many a Winter Night; Mingles in ev’ry Play, to find
The Favours of Fortune I once ho… And often invok’d her, but ever in… She despis’d my Addresses, which… I flew to the Muses, in Hopes of… Ah Wretch that I was! I might ve…
Is what we owe great William then Forgotten by ungrateful Men? And has His Fame run out its Dat… Who snatch’d us from the Brink of… Else, why should Scholars, Sir,…
When you command, the Muse obeys, Proud to present her humble Lays. Of writing I’ll no more repent, Nor think my Time unwisely spent; If Verse the Happiness procures
Celia, when you oblige again. Subdue that haughty Eye: Rather than Insolence fustain, Who would not wish to die? A grateful Heart will own the Deb…
Should you employ your Ridicule, On those who Pity claim? Think, Birtha, is the native Fool For Wit a proper Theme? On Vice your hum’rous Vein displa…
This Present from a lovely Dame, Fair and unsully’d, as her Fame, Shall to Hibernia be convey’d, Where once, rever’d, her Father s… And taught the drooping Arts to s…
Obrian, were in Story told, Thy Ancestors wore Crowns of old: In fair Hibernia’s Isle they reig… A Country, by their Sons disdain’… Too apt to charge their Native Is…
O thou, my beauteous, ever tender… Thou, on whom all my worldly Joys… Accept these Numbers; and with Pl… Unstudy’d Truth, which few, alas!… While conscious Virtue takes the…
Once Jupiter, from out the Skies, Beheld a thousand Temples rise; The Goddess Fortune all invok’d, To Jove an Altar seldom smoak’d: The God resolv’d to make Inspecti…
Dear Psyche, come, with chearful… And bless this desolated Place. O come! my sickly Couch attend, And ease the Anguish of your Frie… Thy Soul, with ev’ry Grace supply…
’Tis said, for ev’ry common Grief The Muses can afford Relief: And, surely, on that heav’nly Tra… A Boyle can never call in vain. Then strait invoke the sacred Nin…
This mourning Mother can with Eas… The Arts of Latium, and the Grec… Was early learn’d, nay more, was e… And knew the Pride of Science to… Left Men to take assuming Airs fr…
Tell me, my Patroness, and Friend… Can Age Parnassian Heights ascen… Sweet Poesy’s light Footsteps tra… Ah no! I must give up the Chace: When Time the Head hath silver’d…
Ierne’s now our royal Care: We lately fix’d our Vice—roy ther… How near was she to be undone, Till pious Love inspir’d her Son! What cannot our Vice—gerent do,