Faringdon Hill. Book I (Henry James Pye Poems)
A Poem In Two BooksNow with meridian force the orb of dayPours on our throbbing heads his sultry ray;O'er the ...
A Poem In Two BooksNow with meridian force the orb of dayPours on our throbbing heads his sultry ray;O'er the ...
Churchill is dead! and in that Word is lostThe bravest Leader of the bravest Host;A veteran Chief, that in the ...
Ver. 1. How amiable are thy tabernacles, O Lord of hosts!Jehovah, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,Sole Monarch of the universal ...
Tho' proud Del---ne, for nameless, partial Ends,Throws me at Distance from my letter'd Friends;And, not content to banish from his ...
SILLIANDER and PATCH. THOU so many favours hast receiv'd, Wondrous to tell, and hard to be believ'd, Oh ! H—— D, to my lays attention lend, Hear how two lovers boastingly contend ; Like thee successful, such their bloomy youth, Renown'd alike for gallantry and truth. St. JAMES's bell had toll'd some wretches in, (As tatter'd riding-hoods alone could sin) The happier sinners now their charms put out, And to their manteaus their complexions suit : The opera queens had finish'd half their faces, And city-dames allready taken places ; Fops of all kinds to see the Lion, run ; The beauties stay till the first act's begun, And beaux step home to put fresh linen on. No well-dress'd youth in coffee-house remain'd, But pensive PATCH, who on the window lean'd ; And SILLIANDER, that alert and gay, First pick'd his teeth, and then began to say.SILLIANDER. Why all these sighs ? ah ! why so pensive grown ? Some cause there is that thus you sit alone. Does hapless passion all this sorrow move ? Or dost thou envy where the ladies love ?PATCH. If, whom they love, my envy must pursue, 'Tis sure, at least, I never envy You.SILLIANDER. No, I'm unhappy, You are in the right, 'Tis You they favour, and 'tis Me they slight. Yet I could tell, but that I hate to boast, A club of ladies where 'tis Me they toast.PATCH. Toasting does seldom any favour prove ; Like us, they never toast the thing they love. A certain Duke one night my health begun ; With chearful pledges round the room it run, Till the young SILVIA press'd to drink it too, Started, and vow'd she knew not what to do : What, drink a fellow's health ! she dy'd with shame : Yet blush'd whenever she pronounc'd my name.SILLIANDER. Ill fates pursue me, may I never find The dice propitious, or the ladies kind, If fair Miss FLIPPY's fan I did not tear, And one from me she condescends to wear.PATCH. Women are always ready to receive ; 'Tis then a favour when the sex will give. A lady (but she is too great to name) Beauteous in person, spotless is her fame, With gentle strugglings let me force this ring ; Another day may give another thing.SILLIANDER. I cou'd say something — see this billet-doux — And as for presents — look upon my shoe — These buckles were not forc'd, nor half a theft, But a young Countess fondly made the gift.PATCH. My Countess is more nice, more artful too, Affects to fly that I may fierce pursue : This snuff-box which I begg'd, she still deny'd, And when I strove to snatch it, seem'd to hide ; She laugh'd and fled, and as I sought to seize, With affectation cramm'd it down her stays : Yet hop'd she did not place it there unseen, I press'd her breasts, and pull'd it from between.SILLIANDER. Last night, as I stood ogling of her Grace, Drinking delicious poison from her face, The soft enchantress did that face decline, Nor ever rais'd her eyes to meet with mine ; With sudden art some secret did pretend, Lean'd cross two chairs to whisper to a friend, While the stiff whalebone with the motion rose, And thousand beauties to my sight expose.PATCH. Early this morn — (but I was ask'd to come) I drank bohea in CÆLIA's dressing-room : Warm from her bed, to me alone within, Her night-gown fasten'd with a single pin ; Her night-cloaths tumbled with resistless grace, And her bright hair play'd careless round her face ; Reaching the kettle, made her gown unpin, She wore no waistcoat, and her shift was thin.SILLIANDER. See TITIANA driving to the park, Hark ! let us follow, 'tis not yet too dark ; In her all beauties of the spring are seen, Her cheeks are rosy, and her mantle green.PATCH. See, TINTORETTA to the opera goes ! Haste, or the crowd will not permit our bows ; In her the glory of the heav'ns we view, Her eyes are star-like, and her mantle blue.SILLIANDER. What colour does in CÆLIA's stockings shine ? Reveal that secret, and the prize is thine.PATCH. What are her garters ! tell me if you can ; I'll freely own thee for the happier man. Thus PATCH continued his heroic strain, While SILLIANDER but contends in vain. After a conquest so important gain'd, Unrival'd PATCH in ev'ry ruelle reign'd. (Mary Wortley Montagu)
While Pow'r triumphant bears unrival'd Sway,Propt by the Aid of all-prevailing Gold;While bold Corruption blasts the Face of Day,And Men, ...
If yet, my Lord, your Sorrows find relief,And a short Pause succeeds your weighty Grief;With Candour this unwelcome Verse peruse,The ...
Condemn not, Madam, as I write in Haste,My Thoughts confus'd, or any Word misplac'd.Of cens'ring Tongues I scorn the little ...
As once, if not with light regard,I read aright that gifted bard,(Him whose school above the restHis loveliest Elfin Queen ...
Whilst on thy Golden Locks I gaze,And what I like sincerely praise,Coldly you turn your Head away,And tax with Flattery ...
A beauteous Queen by furious zeal pursu'd,With sense and science in young life imbu'd,A Patriot who has earn'd the meed ...
CELIA, fair, beyond description,Soon became the fav'rite toast;Charms unrival'd ev'n by fiction,Did the lovely maiden boast.Beaux and sages, panting, dying,Did ...
THICK-SPRINKLED bunting! Flag of stars! Long yet your road, fateful flag!-long yet your road, and lined with bloody death! For ...
1 STARTING from fish-shape Paumanok, where I was born, Well-begotten, and rais'd by a perfect mother; After roaming many lands-lover ...
I O THOU, that sit'st upon a throne, With harp of high majestic tone, To praise the King of kings; ...
Part 1 WHAT dire Offence from am'rous Causes springs, What mighty Contests rise from trivial Things, I sing -- This ...
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