Matthew Prior

Ev'n so, with all submission, I
. . . .
Send you each year a homely letter,
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Ev'n so, with all submission, I
. . . .
Send you each year a homely letter,
Who may return me much a better.

What is a king? a man condemn'd to bear
The public burthen of the nation's care.

What is a king? a man condemn'd to bear
The public burthen of the nation's care.

Do not unto another that which you would not he should do unto
you.

Do not unto another that which you would not he should do unto
you.

The winds grow high;
Impending tempests charge the sky;
The lightning flies, the thunder roars;
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The winds grow high;
Impending tempests charge the sky;
The lightning flies, the thunder roars;
And big waves lash the frightened shores.

They always talk who never think, and who have the least to say.

They always talk who never think, and who have the least to say.