An Epistle To Sir John Blount City: London (Nicholas Amhurst Poems)
Wonder not Blount, whose magick HandLifts to the Clouds thy native Land,That in these busy, golden Times,Thy Ears are teaz'd ...
Wonder not Blount, whose magick HandLifts to the Clouds thy native Land,That in these busy, golden Times,Thy Ears are teaz'd ...
I once did know a Turkish manWhom I upon a two-pair-back met,His name it was EFFENDI KHANBACKSHEESH PASHA BEN ALLAH ...
THE dawn hangs heavy on the distant hill,The darkness shudders slowly into light;And from the weary bosom of the nightThe ...
YES, she is blind! You well might doubt her doom,Seeing her softly move across the room:And from the organ, in ...
How gayly is at first begun Our Life's uncertain Race! Whilst yet that sprightly Morning Sun, With which we just ...
How gayly is at first begun Our Life's uncertain Race! Whilst yet that sprightly Morning Sun, With which we just ...
Some -- Work for Immortality -- The Chiefer part, for Time -- He -- Compensates -- immediately -- The former ...
But do not let us quarrel any more, No, my Lucrezia; bear with me for once: Sit down and all ...
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