Stand forth, brave man, since fate has made thee here The Hector over aged Exeter, Who for a long, sad time has weeping stood Like a poor lady lost in widowhood, But fears not now to see her safety sold,...
I heard ye could cool heat, and came With hope you would allay the same; Thrice I have wash'd but feel no cold, Nor find that true which was foretold. Methinks, like mine, your pulses beat...
I'm sick of love, O let me lie Under your shades to sleep or die! Either is welcome, so I have Or here my bed, or here my grave. Why do you sigh, and sob, and keep Time with the tears that I do weep?...
Where others love and praise my verses, still Thy long black thumb-nail marks them out for ill: A fellon take it, or some whitflaw come For to unslate or to untile that thumb!...
When my date's done, and my grey age must die, Nurse up, great lord, this my posterity: Weak though it be, long may it grow and stand, Shored up by you, brave Earl of Westmoreland.
Thou'st dar'd too far; but, fury, now forbear To give the least disturbance to her hair: But less presume to lay a plait upon Her skin's most smooth and clear expansion. 'Tis like a lawny firmament as yet,...
See and not see, and if thou chance t'espy Some aberrations in my poetry, Wink at small faults; the greater, ne'ertheless, Hide, and with them their father's nakedness....
Command the roof, great Genius, and from thence Into this house pour down thy influence, That through each room a golden pipe may run Of living water by thy benizon;...
As is your name, so is your comely face Touch'd every where with such diffused grace, As that in all that admirable round, There is not one least solecism found; And as that part, so every portion else...
Never my book's perfection did appear Till I had got the name of Villars here: Now 'tis so full that when therein I look I see a cloud of glory fills my book. Here stand it still to dignify our Muse,...
When to thy porch I come and ravish'd see The state of poets there attending thee, Those bards and I, all in a chorus sing: We are thy prophets, Porter, thou our king.
If when these lyrics, C'sar, you shall hear, And that Apollo shall so touch your ear As for to make this, that, or any one, Number your own, by free adoption; That verse, of all the verses here, shall be...
Woe, woe to them, who, by a ball of strife, Do, and have parted here a man and wife: CHARLES the best husband, while MARIA strives To be, and is, the very best of wives,...
To find that tree of life whose fruits did feed And leaves did heal all sick of human seed: To find Bethesda and an angel there Stirring the waters, I am come; and here, At last, I find (after my much to do)...
Welcome, most welcome to our vows and us, Most great and universal genius! The drooping West, which hitherto has stood As one in long-lamented widowhood, Looks like a bride now, or a bed of flowers...
This day is yours, great Charles! and in this war Your fate, and ours, alike victorious are. In her white stole now Victory does rest Ensphered with palm on your triumphant crest....
Welcome, great C'sar, welcome now you are As dearest peace after destructive war: Welcome as slumbers, or as beds of ease After our long and peevish sicknesses. O pomp of glory! Welcome now, and come...
When I of Villars do but hear the name, It calls to mind that mighty Buckingham, Who was your brave exalted uncle here, Binding the wheel of fortune to his sphere,...