Lady Mary Wortley Montagu


Lady Mary Wortley Montagu Poems

1. The Fourth Ode Of The First Book Of Horace Imitated 1/3/2003
2. Impromptu, To A Young Lady Singing 1/3/2003
3. Thursday, The Bassette-Table 1/3/2003
4. The Bride In The Country 1/3/2003
5. Melinda's Complaint 1/3/2003
6. Town Eclogues: Monday; Roxana Or The Drawing-Room 1/1/2004
7. On The Death Of Mrs. Bowes 1/3/2003
8. Town Eclogues: Tuesday; St. James's Coffee-House 1/1/2004
9. Town Eclogues: Wednesday 1/1/2004
10. Song -- Rondeau 1/3/2003
11. On Seeing A Portrait Of Sir Robert Walpole 1/3/2003
12. The Politicians 1/3/2003
13. Monday, Roxana, Or The Drawing-Room 1/3/2003
14. Written At Lovere, 1755 1/3/2003
15. Julia To Ovid 1/3/2003
16. Irregular Verses To Truth 1/3/2003
17. To The Same 1/3/2003
18. The Ninth Ode Of The Third Book Of Horace Imitated 1/3/2003
19. To Mr. ------ 1/3/2003
20. Town Eclogues: Thursday; The Bassette-Table 1/1/2004
21. Fragment To ****** 1/3/2003
22. John Duke Of Marlborough 1/3/2003
23. Lady Hertford To Lord William Hamilton 1/3/2003
24. Friday, The Toilette 1/3/2003
25. The Court Of Dulness 1/3/2003
26. Epithalamium 1/3/2003
27. The Fifth Ode Of The First Book Of Horace Imitated 1/3/2003
28. Farewell To Bath 1/3/2003
29. Wednesday, The Tête À Tête 1/3/2003
30. Town Eclogues: Saturday; The Small-Pox 1/1/2004
31. To A Friend On His Travels 1/3/2003
32. Continuation 1/3/2003
33. Epistle From Arthur Grey, The Footman, To Mrs. Murray, After His Condemnation For Attempting To Comm 1/1/2004
34. A Character 1/3/2003
35. Lines Written In A Blank Page Of Milton's Paradise Lost 1/3/2003
36. Addressed To ------, 1736 1/3/2003
37. Answered, For Lord William Hamilton 1/3/2003
38. Answer 1/3/2003
39. The Lady's Resolve 1/3/2003
40. Epistle To Lord Hervey On The King's Birthday From The Country 1/3/2003
Best Poem of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu

A Man In Love

L'Homme qui ne se trouve point, et ne se trouvera jamais.


The man who feels the dear disease,
Forgets himself, neglects to please,
The crowd avoids, and seeks the groves,
And much he thinks when much he loves;
Press'd with alternate hope and fear,
Sighs in her absence, sighs when near.
The gay, the fond, the fair, the young,
Those trifles pass unseen along,
To him a pert insipid throng.
But most he shuns the vain coquette;
Contemns her false affected wit:
The minstrel's sound, the flowing bowl,
Oppress and hurt the amorous soul....

Read the full of A Man In Love

Song -- Rondeau

Finish these langours! Oh! I'm sick
Of dying airs, I know the trick;
Long since I've learn'd to well explain
Th'unmeaning cant of fire and pain,
And see through all the senseless lies
Of burning darts from killing eyes;
I'm tir'd with this continual rout
Of bowing low and leading out.
Finish, &c.

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