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!

A weak Invention of the Enemy.

A weak Invention of the Enemy.

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.

Losers must have leave to speak.

Losers must have leave to speak.

Stolen sweets are best.

Stolen sweets are best.