After Death nothing is, and nothing, death,
The utmost limit of a gasp of breath.
18 lines
Chloe,
In verse by your command I write.
266 lines
Much wine had passed, with grave discourse
Of who fucks who, and who does worse
166 lines
[Rochester had to flee the court for several months
after handing this to the King by mistake.]
35 lines
Ancient Person, for whom I
All the flattering youth defy,
26 lines
Love bade me hope, and I obeyed;
Phyllis continued still unkind:
24 lines
Absent from thee I languish still;
Then ask me not, when I return?
16 lines
Well Sir, 'tis granted, I said Dryden's Rhimes,
Were stoln, unequal, nay dull many times:
124 lines
By all love's soft, yet mighty powers, It is a thing unfit,
18 lines, 2 comments
I cannot change, as others do,
Though you unjustly scorn;
16 lines
Give me leave to rail at you, -
I ask nothing but my due:
16 lines
All my past life is mine no more,
The flying hours are gone,
15 lines
My dear mistress has a heart
Soft as those kind looks she gave me,
16 lines
Deare Friend.
I heare this Towne does soe abound,
101 lines
Methinks I see you, newly risen
From your embroider'd Bed and pissing,
6 lines
Were I (who to my cost already am
One of those strange prodigious Creatures Man)
225 lines
Why dost thou shade thy lovely face? O why
Does that eclipsing hand of thine deny
36 lines, 1 comment
Nothing, thou elder brother even to shade,
That hadst a being ere the world was made,
51 lines
Vulcan, contrive me such a cup
As Nestor used of old;
24 lines, 1 comment
As some brave admiral, in former war,
Deprived of force, but pressed with courage still,
48 lines, 1 comment
Quoth the Duchess of Cleveland to counselor Knight,"I'd fain have a prick, knew I how to come by't. I desire you'll be secret and giv
12 lines, 1 comment
Naked she lay, clasped in my longing arms,
I filled with love, and she all over charms;
72 lines, 3 comments
To this moment a rebel I throw down my arms,
Great Love, at first sight of Olinda's bright charms.
24 lines
An age in her embraces passed Would seem a winter's day;
43 lines
I could love thee till I die,
Would'st thou love me modestly,
24 lines
At five this morn, when Phoebus raised his head
From Thetis' lap, I raised myself from bed,
175 lines, 1 comment
Tell me no more of constancy, The frivolous pretense
23 lines
Absent from thee, I languish still; Then ask me not, When I return?
18 lines
Love a woman? You're an ass.
'Tis a most insipid passion
18 lines
I cannot change, as others do, Though you unjustly scorn;
17 lines
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