Poems to Mulgrave and Scroope (John Wilmot Poems)
Deare Friend. I heare this Towne does soe abound, With sawcy Censurers, that faults are found, With what of late ...
Deare Friend. I heare this Towne does soe abound, With sawcy Censurers, that faults are found, With what of late ...
Much wine had passed, with grave discourse Of who fucks who, and who does worse (Such as you usually do ...
Were I - who to my cost already am One of those strange, prodigious creatures, man - A spirit free ...
An age in her embraces passed Would seem a winter's day; When life and light, with envious haste, Are torn ...
Were I (who to my cost already am One of those strange prodigious Creatures Man) A Spirit free, to choose ...
At five this morn, when Phoebus raised his head From Thetis' lap, I raised myself from bed, And mounting steed, ...
Chloe, In verse by your command I write. Shortly you'll bid me ride astride, and fight: These talents better with ...
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