Alma; or, The Progress of the Mind. In Three Cantos. – Canto III. (Matthew Prior Poems)
Richard, who now was half asleep,Roused, nor would longer silence keep;And sense like this, in vocal breath,Broke from his twofold ...
Richard, who now was half asleep,Roused, nor would longer silence keep;And sense like this, in vocal breath,Broke from his twofold ...
Still let low wits, who sense nor honour prize,Sneer at all gratitude, all truth disguise;At living worth, because alive, exclaim,Insult ...
It always has been a thought discreetTo know the company you meet;And sure there may be secret dangerIn talking much ...
[Skelton Laureate agaynste a comely Coystrowne that curyowsly chawntyd And curryshly cowntred, And madly in hys Musykkys mokkyshly made, Agaynste ...
While to our Queen each duteous Bard conveysThe faithful Tribute of exalted Praise;While Genius, Learning, all their Force combine,To make ...
TO J. F. CLARKEWHO is the shepherd sent to lead,Through pastures green, the Master's sheep?What guileless 'Israelite indeed'The folded flock ...
A corrupte Judge sayde to an arrante theefe, Whye shouldeste thou not dye by lawe of the lande, Beinge caste by twelue ...
A Lay of the Loamshire Hunt Cup"Aye, squire," said Stevens, "they back him at evens; The race is all over, ...
On Walden's Range at morning timeThe sun shone brightly down;It shone across the winding PageNear Murrurundi town.It glittered o'er the ...
The fact which suggested this poem is related by Clarke in his Travels.I.Blue sky above, blue sea below,Far off, the ...
Beholde you yonge Ladyes, of hyghe parentageAnd you yonge virgyns, of eche degreHere is a pamphlet, euen mete for your ...
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro' the house, Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; The ...
The Waste Land by T. S. Eliot "Nam Sibyllam quidem Cumis ego ipse oculis meis vidi in ampulla pendere, et ...
I Eddie Linden Dear Eddie we've not met Except upon the written page And at your age the wonder Is ...
for Brenda Williams The dawn cracked with ice, with fire grumbling in the grate, With ire in the homes we ...
I know no paynt of poetry Can mend such colourd Imag'ry In sullen inke: yet Fayrford, I May relish thy ...
Est brevitate opus, ut currat sententia, neu se Impediat verbis lassas onerantibus aures: Et sermone opus est modo tristi, saepe ...
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