A Crown of Sonnets Dedicated to Love (Mary Wroth Poems)
In this strange Labyrinth how shall I turne,Wayes are on all sids while the way I misse:If to the right ...
Poems about unprofitably (13 Poems)
To Harriet — It Is Not Blasphemy To Hope That Heaven (Percy Bysshe Shelley Poems)
It is not blasphemy to hope that HeavenMore perfectly will give those nameless joysWhich throb within the pulses of the ...
Of Imputed Righteousness (John Bunyan Poems)
Now, if thou wouldst inherit righteousness,And so sanctification possessIn body, soul, and spirit, then thou mustTo Jesus fly, as one ...
XLI. (Khoshal Khan Khattak Poems)
Should any one speak about intellect and ability, certainly, I possess them;But since good fortune assisteth me not, unto whom ...
The Village Schoolmaster (Oliver Goldsmith Poems)
Beside yon straggling fence that skirts the wayWith blossom'd furze unprofitably gay,There, in his noisy mansion, skill'd to rule,The village ...
XXXV. (Khoshal Khan Khattak Poems)
There will be none of the world's vanities and ambitions within the tomb:Thine own good deeds will go with thee, ...
On The Death Of A Child. (John Dunmore Lang Poems)
Go, angel, cherub, go,Back to thy native skies;Nor tarry longer here below,Amid earth's vanities;Hear'st not that voice, "Come, daughter, come?"It ...
Sonnet XI (Mary Wroth Poems)
Unprofitably pleasing, and unsound.When Heaven gave liberty to fraile dull earth,To bringe foorth plenty that in ills abound,Which ripest, yet ...
Sonnet X (Mary Wroth Poems)
Bee from the Court of Love, and Reason torne,For Love in Reason now doth put his trust,Desert, and liking are ...
The Birth Of Flattery (George Crabbe Poems)
Muse of my Spenser, who so well could singThe passions all, their bearings and their ties;Who could in view those ...
Imagination (Gamaliel Bradford Poems)
Imagination plays me most intolerable tricks.To enumerate them all would be unbearably prolix.Just a trifle bids them gather and a ...
The Deserted Village (Oliver Goldsmith Poem)
Sweet Auburn! loveliest village of the plain, Where health and plenty cheered the labouring swain, Where smiling spring its earliest ...
To My Dear Friend Mr. Congreve On His Commedy Call’d The Double Dealer (John Dryden Poems)
Well then; the promis'd hour is come at last; The present age of wit obscures the past: Strong were our ...