#English
Come, weep no more, for ’tis in va… Torment not thus your pretty heart… Think, Flavia, we may meet again, As well as that we now must part. You sigh and weep; the gods neglec…
Prometheus, forming Mr. Day, Carved something like a man in cla… The mortal’s work might well misca… He that does heaven and earth cont… Has only power to form a soul;
Dear Chloe, how blubber’d is that… Thy cheek all on fire, and thy hai… Prythee quit this caprice; and (as… Let us e’en talk a little like fol… How canst thou presume, thou hast…
In vain you tell your parting love… You wish fair winds may waft him o… Alas! what winds can happy prove That bear me far from what I love… Alas! what dangers on the main
The merchant, to secure his treasu… Conveys it in a borrowed name: Euphelia serves to grace my measur… But Cloe is my real flame. My softest verse, my darling lyre
You, Madam, may, with safety go Decrees of destiny to know; For at your birth kind planets rei… And certain happiness ordain’d: Such charms as yours are only give…
On his death-bed poor Lubin lies: His spouse is in despair: With frequent sobs, and mutual cri… They both express their care. A different cause, says Parson Sl…
Did sweeter Sounds adorn my flowi… Than ever Man pronounc’d, or Ange… Had I all Knowledge, Human and D… That Thought can reach, or Scienc… And had I Pow’r to give that Kno…
Soft Cupid, wanton, amorous boy, The other day, moved with my lyre, In flattering accents spoke his jo… And uttered thus his fond desire. Oh! raise thy voice, one song I a…
Why, Harry, what ails you? why lo… To think and ne’er drink will make… ’Tis the mistress, the friend, and… Which create all the pleasure poor… But wine of the three’s the most c…
As after noon, one summer’s day, Venus stood bathing in a river; Cupid a-shooting went that way, New strung his bow, new fill’d his… With skill he chose his sharpest d…
Upon the Model of The Nut-Brown… Thou, to whose eyes I bend, at wh… (Though low my voice, though artle… I take the sprightly reed, and sin… Careless of what the censuring wor…
Hah! how the laurel, great Apollo… And all the cavern shakes! Far of… The man that is unhallow’d: for th… The god approaches. Hark! he knoc… Feel the glad impulse, and the sev…
Dear Thomas, didst thou never pop Thy head into a tin-man’s shop? There, Thomas, didst thou never s… ('Tis but by way of simile) A squirrel spend his little rage
Say, dearest Villiers, poor depar… (Since fleeting life thus suddenly… Say, what did all thy busy hopes a… That anxious thou from pole to pol… Ere on thy chin the springing bear…
