The Patriot: A Pindaric Epistle, Addressed To Lord Buckhorse (Christopher Anstey Poems)
While you, my Lord, great Drury's weal sustain, Light ev'ry walk, and open all the lane, With strength of arm ...
While you, my Lord, great Drury's weal sustain, Light ev'ry walk, and open all the lane, With strength of arm ...
ME Thought I pass'd through th'Edalyan Groues,And askt the Graces, if they could directMe to a Lady whom Minerva chose,With ...
SEE! yonder badgeman with that glowing face,A meteor shining in this sober place!Vast sums were paid, and many years were ...
Long, Dodington, in debt, I long have sought To ease the burden of my graceful thought: And now a ...
I. Leave, bashfull Muse, the too hot Latian Shore, To Albions temperate Clime sail or'e; Sing Learnings Tempe, where clear ...
YES, our Election's past, and we've been free,Somewhat as madmen without keepers be;And such desire of Freedom has been shown,That ...
The dim, mysterious, ruddy lightThat ushers in an autumn night,Hung o'er the reeking fields that layBefore me, on my lonely ...
But may a Rural Pen try to set forthSuch a Great Fathers Ancient Grace and worthI undertake a no less ...
All worthies are not sung in song. That live their lives and do their deeds Where wounded nature ...
LET a Parisian prelate lead the vanOf worthies now advancing on the stage;Surely 'twas his own mind the pious manPourtray'd, ...
To the Celestial Numbers To this our world, to Learning, and to Heav'n, Three Nines there are, to every one ...
In pious times, ere priest-craft did begin, Before polygamy was made a sin; When man, on many, multipli'd his kind, ...
I. The morn when first it thunders in March, The eel in the pond gives a leap, they say: As ...
Much wine had passed, with grave discourse Of who fucks who, and who does worse (Such as you usually do ...
O mad, superbly drunk; If you kick open your doors and play the fool in public; If you empty your ...
Though after Death, Thanks lessen into Praise, And Worthies be not crown'd with gold, but bayes; Shall we not thank? ...
I O THOU, that sit'st upon a throne, With harp of high majestic tone, To praise the King of kings; ...
OCTOBER: Ægloga DecimaPIERCE & CUDDIE Cuddie, for shame hold up thy heavye head, And let us cast with what delight ...
A Poem upon the Death of His Late Highness the Lord Protector That Providence which had so long the care ...
So spake the Son of God; and Satan stood A while as mute, confounded what to say, What to reply, ...
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