Colley Cibber

Now, by St. Paul, the work goes bravely on.

Now, by St. Paul, the work goes bravely on.

Stolen sweets are best.

Stolen sweets are best.

Tea! thou soft, thou sober, sage, and venerable
liquid, . . . thou female tongue-running, smile-smoothing,
heart-opening, wind-tippling read more

Tea! thou soft, thou sober, sage, and venerable
liquid, . . . thou female tongue-running, smile-smoothing,
heart-opening, wind-tippling cordial, to whose glorious
insipidity I owe the happiest moment of my life, let me fall
prostrate.

A weak Invention of the Enemy.

A weak Invention of the Enemy.

Oh, say! what is that thing call'd light,
Which I must ne'er enjoy?
What are the blessings read more

Oh, say! what is that thing call'd light,
Which I must ne'er enjoy?
What are the blessings of the sight?
Oh, tell your poor blind boy!