Colley Cibber

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!

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.

Losers must have leave to speak.

Losers must have leave to speak.

Stolen sweets are best.

Stolen sweets are best.