Phillis Wheatley
Goliath Of Gath
EL,
Chap
xvii
Ye martial pow'rs, and all ye tuneful nine,
On The Death Of A Young Lady Of Five Years Of Age
From dark abodes to fair etherial
Th' enraptur'd innocent has wing'd her flight;
On the kind bosom of eternal
She finds unknown beatitude above
On the Death of JC an Infant
No more the flow'ry scenes of pleasure rife,
Nor charming prospects greet the mental eyes,
No more with joy we view that lovely
Smiling, disportive, flush'd with ev'ry grace
On Friendship
Let amicitia in her ample
Extend her notes to a Celestial
Benevolent far more divinely
Amor like me doth triumph at the
On The Death of Mr Snider Murderd By Richardson
In heavens eternal court it was
How the first martyr for the cause should
To clear the country of the hated
He whet his courage for the common
To a Lady on Her Remarkable Preservation
Though thou did'st hear the tempest from afar,
And felt'st the horrors of the wat'ry war,
To me unknown, yet on this peaceful
Methinks I hear the storm tumultuous roar,
Thoughts on the Works of Providence
Arise, my soul, on wings enraptur'd,
To praise the monarch of the earth and skies,
Whose goodness and benificence
As round its centre moves the rolling year,
On The Death Of Dr Samuel Marshall
Thro' thickest glooms look back, immortal shade,
On that confusion which thy death has made:
Or from Olympus' height look down, and seeA Town involv'd in grief bereft of thee
Thy Lucy sees thee mingle with the dead,
To the Kings Most Excellent Majesty 1768
Your subjects hope, dread Sire—The crown upon your brows may flourish long,
And that your arm may in your God be strong
O may your sceptre num'rous nations sway,
And all with love and readiness obey
To His Honour the Lieutenant-Governor
All-Conquering Death
by thy resistless pow'r,
Hope's tow'ring plumage falls to rise no more
Of scenes terrestrial how the glories fly,
To the University of Cambridge
While an intrinsic ardor prompts to write,
The muses promise to assist my pen;'Twas not long since I left my native
The land of errors, and Egyptian gloom:
Father of mercy, 'twas thy gracious
To the Right Honourable William Earl of Dartmouth
Hail, happy day, when, smiling like the morn,
Fair Freedom rose New-England to adorn:
The northern clime beneath her genial ray,
Dartmouth, congratulates thy blissful sway: