Enlightened Teacher, gladly from thy hand Have I received this proof of pains bestowed By Thee to guide thy Pupils on the road That, in our native isle, and every land,...
What, you, too, my ******, in hashes so knowing, Of sauces and soups Aristarchus profest! Are you, too, my savory Brunswicker, going To make an old fool of yourself with the rest? ...
That for seven lusters I did never come To do the rites to thy religious tomb; That neither hair was cut, or true tears shed By me, o'er thee, as justments to the dead,...
A bless'd lot hath he, who having passed His youth and early manhood in the stir And turmoil of the world, retreats at length, With cares that move, not agitate the heart,...
Oh! ye, enthroned in presidential awe, To give the song-smit generation law; Who wield Apollo's delegated rod, And shake Parnassus with your sovereign nod; A pensive Pilgrim, worn with base turmoils,...
When, Reverend Sir, your good design, To clothe our Pilgrim gravely fine, And give him gentler mien and gait, First reached my ear, his doubtful fate With dread suspense my mind oppressed,...
While at the stook the shearers cow'r To shun the bitter blaudin' show'r, Or in gulravage rinnin' scow'r To pass the time, To you I dedicate the hour In idle rhyme....
Unwin, I should but ill repay The kindness of a friend, Whose worth deserves as warm a lay As ever friendship penn'd, Thy name omitted in a page That would reclaim a vicious age.
Brooks, for they call'd you so that knew you best, Old Brooks, who loved so well to mouth my rhymes, How oft we two have heard St. Mary's chimes! How oft the Cantab supper, host and guest,...
My dear Friend, If reading verse be your delight, 'Tis mine as much, or more, to write; But what we would, so weak is man, Lies oft remote from what we can....
Of all those three brave brothers fall'n i' th' war (Not without glory), noble sir, you are, Despite of all concussions, left the stem To shoot forth generations like to them....
If I dare write to you, my lord, who are Of your own self a public theatre, And, sitting, see the wiles, ways, walks of wit, And give a righteous judgment upon it,...
The wise and great of every clime, Through all the spacious walks of Time, Where'er the Muse her power display'd, With joy have listen'd and obey'd. For taught of heaven, the sacred Nine...
My dear Mr. Chamberlain, Since you last heard from me, Many curious things have happened, Both in Birmingham and abroad. As to the happenings in Birmingham,...
You are a lord, an earl, nay more, a man Who writes sweet numbers well as any can; If so, why then are not these verses hurled, Like Sybil's leaves, throughout the ample world?...
How dull and dead are books that cannot show A prince of Pembroke, and that Pembroke you! You who are high born, and a lord no less Free by your fate than fortune's mightiness,...