The Price. To The Same.
CAN there on earth, my Celia, be
A price I would not pay for thee?
Yes, one dear precious tear of thine
Should not be shed to make thee mine.
More poems by Henry Fielding
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The Roast Beef of Old England
When mighty roast beef was the Englishman’s food,
It ennobled our hearts, and enrichèd our blood;
Our soldiers were brave, and our courtiers were good. … -
To Euthalia. Written in the year 1728.
BURNING with love, tormented with despair,
Unable to forget or ease his care;
In vain each practis'd art Alexis tries; … -
To Miss H-and At Bath. Written extempore in the pump-room, 1742.
SOON shall these bounteous springs thy wish bestow,
Soon in each feature sprightly health shall glow;
Thy eyes regain their fire, thy limbs their grace, … -
“A hunting we will go”
The Dusky night rides down the sky,
And ushers in the morn:
The hounds all join in glorious cry, …