The Progress Of A Divine: Satire (Richard Savage Poems)
All priests are not the same, be understood!Priests are, like other folks, some bad, some good.What's vice or virtue, sure ...
All priests are not the same, be understood!Priests are, like other folks, some bad, some good.What's vice or virtue, sure ...
As Rochefoucauld his maxims drewFrom Nature, I believe 'em true:They argue no corrupted mindIn him; the fault is in mankind.This ...
By Sir W. S.I.St. Giles's street is fair and wide,St. Giles's street is long;But long or wide, may naught abideTherein ...
Henley, June 7, 1891. Shall we, to whom the stream by right belongs, Who travel silent, save, perchance, for songs; Whose track's a ripple,—leaves the Thames a lake, Nor frights the swan—scarce makes the rushes shake; Who harmonize, exemplify, complete And vivify a scene already sweet: Who travel careless on, from lock to lock, Oblivious that the world contains a clock, With pace commensurate to our desires, Propelled by other force than Stygian fire's; Shall we be driven hence to leave a place For these, who bring upon our stream disgrace: The rush, the roar, the stench, the smoke, the steam, The nightmare striking through our heavenly dream; The scream as shrill and hateful to the ear As when a peacock vents his rage and fear; Which churn to fury all a glassy reach, And heave rude breakers on a pebbly beach: Which half o'erwhelm with waves our frailer craft, While graceless shop-boys chuckle fore and aft: Foul water-toadstools, noisome filth-stained shapes, Fit only to be manned by dogs and apes: Blots upon nature: scars that mar her smile: Obscene, obtrusive, execrable, vile? (James Kenneth Stephen)
The race of the season is over ;I've lost and ...
High on a gorgeous seat, that far out-shoneHenley's gilt tub, or Flecknoe's Irish throne,Or that where on her Curlls the ...
But in her Temple's last recess inclos'd, On Dulness' lap th' Anointed head repos'd. Him close she curtains round with ...
The Mighty Mother, and her son who brings The Smithfield muses to the ear of kings, I sing. Say you, ...
OXFORD. CAMBRIDGE. 1. R. T. RAIKES. ...
(Air: Carnaval de Venise)LET Housman sing of Severn shore, Of Thames let Arnold sing, But we will sing ...
What do they dream about standing there In the windows facing the street?Eyes transfixed in a strange, far stare, Smiles ...
DEAR goddess of the shining shrineWhere all my votive tapers burn,Where every gold-embroidered thoughtAnd all my flowers of life are ...
GROWLTIGER was a Bravo Cat, who lived upon a barge; In fact he was the roughest cat that ever roamed ...
As Rochefoucauld his maxims drew From nature, I believe 'em true: They argue no corrupted mind In him; the fault ...
Shut, shut the door, good John! fatigu'd, I said, Tie up the knocker, say I'm sick, I'm dead. The dog-star ...
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