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#AmericanWriters
Worthy art Thou, O Lord, of prai… But ah! It’s not in me. My sinking heart I pray Thee rais… So shall I give it Thee. My life as spider’s webb’s cut off…
As he said vanity, so vain say I, Oh! Vanity, O vain all under sky; Where is the man can say, “Lo, I… On brittle earth a consolation sou… What isn’t in honor to be set on h…
As loving hind that (hartless) wan… Scuds through the woods and fern w… Perplext, in every bush and nook d… Her dearest deer, might answer ear… So doth my anxious soul, which now…
No sooner come, but gone, and fal’… Acquaintance short, yet parting ca… Three flours, two searcely blown,… Cropt by th’Almighties hand; yet… With dreadful awe before him let’s…
What God is like to him I serve, What Saviour like to mine? O, never let me from thee swerue, For truly I am thine. My thankfull mouth shall speak thy…
Most truly honoured, and as truly… If worth in me or ought I do appe… Who can of right better demand the… Than may your worthy self from who… The principal might yield a greate…
Thou mighty God of Sea and Land, I here resigne into thy hand The Son of Prayers, of vowes, of… The child I stay’d for many yeare… Thou heard’st me then, and gav’st…
Here lies A worthy matron of unspotted life, A loving mother and obedient wife, A friendly neighbor, pitiful to po… Whom oft she fed, and clothed with…
In silent night when rest I took, For sorrow near I did not look, I wakened was with thund’ring nois… And piteous shrieks of dreadful vo… That fearful sound of “fire” and “…
Proem. Although great Queen, thou now in… Yet thy loud Herald Fame, doth to… Thy wondrous worth proclaim, in ev… And so has vow’d, whilst there is…
A worthy Matron of unspotted life… A loving Mother and obedient wife… A friendly Neighbor, pitiful to p… Whom oft she fed, and clothed with… To Servants wisely aweful, but ye…
Thou ill-form’d offspring of my fe… Who after birth didst by my side r… Till snatched from thence by frien… Who thee abroad, expos’d to public… Made thee in raggs, halting to th’…
My thankfull heart with glorying… Shall celebrate thy Name, Who hath restor’d, redeem’d, recur… From sicknes, death, and Pain. I cry’d thov seem’st to make some…
Phoebus make haste, the day’s too… The silent night’s the fittest tim… But stay this once, unto my suit g… And tell my griefs in either hemis… (And if the whirling of thy wheels…
I had eight birds hatcht in one ne… Four Cocks were there, and Hens t… I nurst them up with pain and care… No cost nor labour did I spare Till at the last they felt their w…