The train of equipage and pomp of state, The shining sideboard and the burnish'd plate, Let other ministers, great Anne, require, And partial fall thy gift to their desire....
Madam,'A stranger's purpose in these lays Is to congratulate, and not to praise. To give the creature the Creator's due Were sin in me, and an offence to you. From man to man, or e'en to woman paid,...
Whether dispensing hope, and ease To the pale victim of disease, Or in the social crowd you sit, And charm the group with sense and wit, Moore's partial ear will not disdain Attention to my artless strain.
I mean no giddy heights to climb, And vainly toil to be sublime; While every line with labour wrought, Is swell'd with tropes for want of thought: Nor shall I call the Muse to shed...
When crowding folks, with strange ill faces, Were making legs, and begging places, And some with patents, some with merit, Tired out my good Lord Dorset's spirit: Sneaking I stood amongst the crew,...
Sir, As once a twelvemonth to the priest, Holy at Rome, here Antichrist, The Spanish king presents a jennet To show his love, that's all that's in it; For if his Holiness would thump...
Dear Joseph,--five and twenty years ago-- Alas, how time escapes!--'tis even so-- With frequent intercourse, and always sweet And always friendly, we were wont to cheat A tedious hour--and now we never meet....
How could you, Gay, disgrace the Muse's train, To serve a tasteless court twelve years in vain![2] Fain would I think our female friend [3] sincere, Till Bob,[4] the poet's foe, possess'd her ear....
'Tis not that I design to rob Thee of thy birthright, gentle Bob, For thou art born sole heir, and single, Of dear Mat Prior's easy jingle; Not that I mean, while thus I knit...
Amongst the sons of men how few are known Who dare be just to merit not their own! Superior virtue and superior sense, To knaves and fools, will always give offence; Nay, men of real worth can scarcely bear,...
What needs my Shakespeare for his honored bones The labor of an age in piled stones? Or that his hallowed reliques should be hid Under a star-ypointing pyramid? Dear son of Memory, great heir of Fame,...
This rich Marble doth enterr The honour'd Wife of Winchester, A Vicounts daughter, an Earls heir, Besides what her vertues fair Added to her noble birth, More then she could own from Earth....
Now, now's the time, so oft by truth Promis'd should come to crown your youth. Then, fair ones, do not wrong Your joys by staying long; Or let love's fire go out,...
Bird of the fanciful plumage, That foldest thy wings in the west, Imbuing the shimmering ocean With the hues of thy delicate breast, Passing away into Dreamland, To visions of heavenly rest! ...
If sometimes in the dark blue eye, Or in the deep red wine, Or soothed by gentlest melody, Still warms this heart of mine, Yet something colder in the blood, And calmer in the brain,...