New-Englands Crisis (Benjamin Tompson Poems)
IN seventy five the Critick of our yearsCommenc'd our war with Phillip and his peers.Whither the sun in Leo had ...
IN seventy five the Critick of our yearsCommenc'd our war with Phillip and his peers.Whither the sun in Leo had ...
Tho' proud Del---ne, for nameless, partial Ends,Throws me at Distance from my letter'd Friends;And, not content to banish from his ...
Wonder not Blount, whose magick HandLifts to the Clouds thy native Land,That in these busy, golden Times,Thy Ears are teaz'd ...
Whence does this sudden, fatal Change proceed?For lo! Despair on ev'ry Brow I read,All shake their mournful Heads and pensive ...
Since, dearest Harry, you will needs requestA short account of all the Muse possest,That, down from Chaucer's days to Dryden's ...
It is, Sir, a confest intrusion hereThat I before your labours do appear,Which no loud Herald need, that may proclaimOr ...
If yet, my Lord, your Sorrows find relief,And a short Pause succeeds your weighty Grief;With Candour this unwelcome Verse peruse,The ...
But say thou very woman, why to meThis fit of weakness and inconstancie?What forfeit have I made of word or ...
To have liv'd eminent in a degreeeBeyond our lofty'st flights, that is like thee;Or t'have had too much merit is ...
IN seventy five the Critick of our yearsCommenc'd our war with Phillip and his peers.Whither the sun in Leo had ...
When late Protectorship was Canon-Proof,And _Cap-a-pe_ had seiz'd on _Whitehall_-Roof,And next, on _Israelites_ durst look so big,That _Tory-like_, it lov'd ...
THO' to Antiquity the Praise we yield Of pleasing Arts; and Fable's earli'st Field Own to be fruitful Greece; yet ...
In Fanscomb Barn (who knows not Fanscomb Barn?) Seated between the sides of rising Hills, Whose airy Tops o'erlook the ...
My loyal Muse would feign aspire to sing The Praises of our gracious King: But, ah! 'twould ill become his ...
To the Superior World to Solemn PeaceTo Regions where Delights shall never ceaseTo Living Springs and to Celestial shadeFor change ...
How, to thy Sacred Memory, shall I bring (Worthy thy Fame) a grateful Offering? I, who by Toils of Sickness, ...
Sure of Success, to You I boldly write, Whilst Love do's ev'ry tender Line endite; Love, who is justly President ...
Those Ladies, Sir, we Virtuosa's call, But Copies are to this Original; Whose charming Empire of her Grace does Sense ...
Oblig'd by frequent visits of this man, Whom as Priest, Poet, and Musician, I for some branch of Melchizedeck took, ...
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