Eldest born of powers divine
Each pontiff's talents morals, life, and end Each softening charm of Clio's smiling song. Earth for a while bespake his stay
Eat mutton once, and you need eat no more
Employ'd to cure a love-distracted swain
Empty the flask, discharg'd the score
England, Netherland, the Heavens and the Arts
Enjoy the sweets of life's luxuriant May Enough; and leave the rest to fame
Enough, cold stone! suffice her long-lov'd name Enthusiasts, Lutherans, and Monks
Envy, if thy searching eye
Erasmus, standing 'fore hell's tribunal, said Ere sin could blight or sorrow fade
Ere yet her child has drawn its earliest breath Euphemius slumbers in this hallow'd ground Europe and Asia, saved by Thee, proclaim Euseia, rich in gold and land
Ever eating, never cloying
Exalted soul, thy various sounds could please Exquisite wines and comestibles
Extremes of fortune are true wisdom's test
Sannazarius Savage R. Fletcher Anon. Dioscorides Ariphron Jeffreys. Huddesford
Fair Nature's sweet simplicity
Fair, rich, and young! how rare is her perfection Falleris hac qui te pingi sub imagine credis False is the tale; a hero never dies Fame I am called, marvel you nothing. Fame, register of Time
Fame says, Pope Julius once the sword did wield Farewell, great painter of mankind
Farewell, sweet boy! and farewell all in thee Farewell, thou child of my right hand and joy Farewell to wine! or if thou bid me sip Far from Tarentum's native soil I lie Far happier are the dead, methinks, than they Far in a savage Cappadocian dell Far in the bosom of the deep Fear no more Love's shafts, for he Fear not, my dear, a flame can never die Feed, gentle swain, thy cattle far away. Few were Erinna's words, and brief her lays Fie, Bozzy! hector, and talk big
Fill high the bowl with sparkling wine Fine lectures Attalus rehearses
First Carlton House, my country friend First in the list behold the caustic Dean Flam to my face is oft too kind
Flavia the least and slightest toy.
Flint dream'd he gave a feast, 'twas regal fare Folly is not feign'd, nor with false wit lies Fond Progne, chattering wretch
Fond Vulgar, canst thou think it strange to find Fools, not to know that half exceeds the whole Forbear, sweet girl, your scheme forego. Forbear to tempt me, Proule, I will not show Forbear to weep where Poussin's ashes lie For ever dear, for ever dreaded Prince Forgive, blest shade, the tributary tear. For Greece and glory they who lie beneath For me the Roman circus echo'd lo its height. For me thy wrinkles have more charms For Phoebus' aid my voice I raise. For Tully late a tomb I gan prepare Fortune, men say, doth give too much to many Found dead, a rat-no case could sure be harder Four Forgers, born in one prolific age Four shillings in the pound we see Fraternal love in such strong currents runs Freed from the toils of war, and long distress Freedom's charms alike engage Freind, for your epitaphs I'm grieved Frenchmen, no more with Britons vie Fresh rising from the ocean foam. Fret not, my friend, and peevish say Friend, Ortho of Syracuse gives thee this charge Friends are like melons. Shall I tell you why? Friend W-n! if you would get rid of a scold From ancient custom 'tis (they say) From flow'r to flow'r, with eager pains. From God they came, to God they went again From Leadenhall the reasons (raisins) come From mortal hands my being I derive From Rufa's eye sly Cupid shot his dart
Hark how chimes the passing bell
Gallus would make me heir, but suddenly Garrow forbear! that tough old jade Gay Bassus, for ten thousand bought
Gazing on thee, sweet maid! all things I see
Gellia the hangman doth, not doctor choose Gift of the Hero, on his dying day
Gil's history appears to me
Give but Cupid's dart to me.
Give me three kisses, Phillis; if not three God and a soldier all people adore
God bless the King, I mean the Faith's Defender Goddess who shunn'st the cottage gate. God has to me sufficiently been kind
God is best pleas'd, when men forsake their sin God of hearts, prithee begone
God said, "Let there be light"-and lo Good friend, for Jesus' sake forbear
Good friend, this message to my owner bear Good health for mortal man is best Good unexpected, evil unforseen Good wine; a friend; or being dry Go-you may call it madness, folly Grateful is sleep-but more to be of stone Great Bacchus, born in thunder and in fire Great Chatham, who from humbled France Great! Good! and Just! Could I but rate Great Homer's birth sev'n rival cities claim Great Pompey's ashes in vile Egypt lie Greece boasts her Homer, Rome her Virgil's name Greece justly boasts her Homer's mighty name
Had Cowley ne'er spoke, Killigrew ne'er writ Had Marlborough's troops in Gaul no better fought Had this fair form the nimic art displays Hail, great in war! all hail, by glory cherish'd Hail, beav'nly Pair! by whose conspiring aid Hail, Niobe! Unbind thy braided hair
Hail! thou first sacrifice in th' martyrs' roll. Half of my soul yet breathes: the rest. Hal's blamed for not leading a soberer life Hang it cries Hearne, in furious fret Happy, oh happy he who, not affecting.
Hark! she's not marble, with gentle heaving
Harpalus to the poor his wealth would leave.
Harp, that did'st soothe my cares, when opening life.
Haste to Clarinda, and reveal
Hast'ning to battle, betray'd by thy friends Hast thou a friend? thou hast indeed Health, rose-lipp'd cherub, haunts this spot
He bath'd with us, brisk; and he supp'd with us,
Rogers R. Heath Herrick
Paschasius
Simonides
Here from the hand of genius, meets your eye Here, happy Doctor, take this sonnet Here, here she lies, a budding rose Here in his dirt lies poor old Demetriades Here innocence and beauty lies, whose breath Here learn, from moral truth and wit refin'd Here lies a babe, that only cried
Here lies a Doctor of Divinity Here lies a man who in his life
Here lies a miser, who, beside
Here lies an honest man! without pretence Here lies an old soldier whom all must applaud Here lies a Scot of reputation
Here lies a wife was chaste, a mother blest Here lies, aye, here doth lie, mort-bleu.
Here lies a youth (ah, wherefore breathless lies!) Here lies a youth whose lofty rhyme
Here lies Dean Donne: enough; those words alone Here lies he, whom the tyrant's rage
Here lies his parents' hopes and fears
Here lies in repose, after great deeds of blood
Here lies John of Mirandola; what else there is to tell.
Here lies Jonson with the rest
Here lies King Henry 11., who many realms Here lies Lord Coningsby; be civil Here lies my wife; and Heaven knows. Here lies Prince Henry, I dare say no more Here lies Sir Horatio Palavozeene Here lies the author of the "Apparition" Here lies the best and worst of Fate Here lies the father of taxation
Here lies the Lyric, who with tale and song Here lies Timocreon: were his deeds supplied Here lies to each her parents' ruth Here lieth one that once was born and cried "Here lieth one whose name was writ on water! Here Molière lies, the Roscius of his age Here Ninon lies buried, who always aspired Here o'er the tomb where Dealtry's ashes sleep Here plac'd near Chaucer, Spenser claims a room Here quench your thirst, and mark in me Here Raphael lies, by whose untimely end
Here Raphael lies. While he lived, Nature's dread Here rests a poet of no vulgar name Here rests a woman, good without pretence Here rests Myrilio's drunken wife
Here rests the Hero, who in glory's page Here Rogers sat, and here for ever dwell Here she lies a pretty bud
Here, shunning idleness at once and praise Here sleeps a daughter by her mother's side Here sleep, whom neither life, nor love. Here strive for empire, o'er the happy scene Here the shrewd physiognomist Eusthenes lies Here Wesley lies in quiet rest
Here, who but once in 's life did thirst, doth lie Her father dead!—Alone, no grief she knows
Her honour and her freedom sav'd. Hermes the volatile, Arcady's president Hermit hoar, in solemn cell.
Heroes and kings! your distance keep Her trophies faded, and revers'd her spear Her virgin zone unloosed, Cleara's charms Her wit and beauty for a court were made
He strives for more, though he his thousands touch He that hath such acuteness and such wit He was and is (see then where lies the odds). He, who his wealth to generous ends applies. He whose left arm loaden with books you see He wrongs the dead who thinks this marble frame. Hey, Giles in what new garb art dress'd Hic conjuncta suo recubat Francisca marito Hid lies the nymph from whom this bounty flows His accounts honest John hath now settled with fate.
His country's muses join with those of Greece His foes, when dead great Atterbury lay
His last great debt is paid-poor Tom's no more His Life is lifeless, and his Death shall die His lordship's mornings were in hurry spent. His valour's proofe, his manlie virtue's prayse "Hoa there! Who art thou? Answer me. Art dumb?"
Homer, though blind, yet saw with his soul's eye Hope, heav'n-born cherub, still appears How apt are men to lie! how dare they say How Arts improve in this aspiring age.
How calm, how bland, appears the moon above us. How can I choose but like Mount Etna glow. How comes it, Perrault, I would gladly know How comes it, Sleep, that thou
How differs, I pray, the Physician's part
How do I thank thee, Death, and bless thy power How falsely does Dorinda's glass
How fine the illusion! Bramarbas breath'd shorter How fitly join'd the lawyer and his wife How ill the motion with the music suits How little grief thy father's ashes claim How many between east and west
How much are they deceiv'd who vainly strive How often, Lycid, shall I bathe with tears How strangely Providence its ways conceals How sweetly careless Delia seems
How the best state to know ?-it is found out How wretched does Prometheus' state appear Hunt not, fish not, shoot not
I am called Childhood, in play is all my mind
I am his Highness' dog at Kew
I am the man who made a prey to grief.
I am the tomb of Crethon: here you read
"I am unable," yonder beggar cries
I and Time 'gainst any two
Ianthe took me by both ears and said
I asked my fair one happy day
I ask no grave beneath the British sod
I cannot see the Speaker! Hal, can you? "Ici l'on rajeunit!"-"Tis true
I dare not trust my pen it trembles so
I die well paid, whilst my expiring breath Idly-busy squirrel, say.
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