Love bears a world of mystery - His arrows, quiver, torch, and infancy: 'Tis not a trifling work to sound A sea of science so profound: And, hence, t' explain it all to-day...
Everything to do with love is mystery. Cupid's arrows, his quiver, his torch, his boyhood: it is more than a day's work to exhaust this science. I make no pretence here of explaining everything. My object is merely to relate to...
From home and city spires, one day, The swallow Progne flew away, And sought the bosky dell Where sang poor Philomel.[2] 'My sister,' Progne said, 'how do you do?...
Old Boreas and the sun, one day Espied a traveller on his way, Whose dress did happily provide Against whatever might betide. The time was autumn, when, indeed,...
Once there was a country bumpkin Who observed a great big pumpkin To a slender stem attached; While upon an oak tree nourished, Little acorns grew and flourished. "Bah!" said he. "That's badly matched."...
God's works are good. This truth to prove Around the world I need not move; I do it by the nearest pumpkin. 'This fruit so large, on vine so small,' Surveying once, exclaim'd a bumpkin -...
DAN CUPID, though the god of soft amour, In ev'ry age works miracles a store; Can Catos change to male coquets at ease; And fools make oracles whene'er he please;...
A fable flourished with antiquity Whose meaning I could never clearly see. Kind reader, draw the moral if you're able: I give you here the naked fable....
The sorest ill that Heaven hath Sent on this lower world in wrath, - The plague (to call it by its name,) One single day of which Would Pluto's ferryman enrich, -...
One of those dread evils which spread terror far and wide, and which Heaven, in its anger, ordains for the punishment of wickedness upon earth - a plague in fact; and so dire a one as to make rich in one day that grim ferryman ...
There is an ape in Paris, To which was given a wife: Like many a one that marries, This ape, in brutal strife, Soon beat her out of life. Their infant cries, - perhaps not fed, -...
There is an ape in Paris to whom a wife was once given; and he, imitating many another husband, beat the poor creature to such an extent that she sighed all the breath out of her body and died. ...
Three saints, for their salvation jealous, Pursued, with hearts alike most zealous, By routes diverse, their common aim. All highways lead to Rome: the same Of heaven our rivals deeming true,...
Three saints, all equally zealous and anxious for their salvation, had the same ideal, although the means by which they strove towards it were different. But as all roads lead to Rome, these three were each content to choose th...
A gardener's ass complain'd to Destiny Of being made to rise before the dawn. 'The cocks their matins have not sung,' said he, 'Ere I am up and gone....
Along the road an ass and dog One master following, did jog. Their master slept: meanwhile, the ass Applied his nippers to the grass, Much pleased in such a place to stop,...
One's native talent from its course Cannot be turned aside by force; But poorly apes the country clown The polish'd manners of the town. Their Maker chooses but a few...
An ass, with relics for his load, Supposed the worship on the road Meant for himself alone, And took on lofty airs, Receiving as his own The incense and the prayers....