Anne Killigrew

(1660- 16 June 1685 / London)

Anne Killigrew Poems

1. Upon A Little Lady 4/21/2010
2. To My Lady Berkeley 4/21/2010
3. The Fourth Epigram 4/21/2010
4. The Third Epigram 4/21/2010
5. To My Lord Colrane 4/21/2010
6. To The Queen 4/21/2010
7. Upon The Saying That My Verses Were Made By Another 4/21/2010
8. Alexandreis 1/1/2004
9. A Pastoral Dialogue - Ii 4/21/2010
10. Cloris Charmes 4/21/2010
11. A Pastoral Dialogue - I 4/21/2010
12. The Second Epigram 4/21/2010
13. Herodias' Daughter Presenting To Her Mother St. John's Head In A Charger, Also Painted By Her Self 4/21/2010
14. The Discontent 12/31/2002
15. On A Picture Painted By Her Self, Representing Two Nimphs Of Diana's, One In A Posture To Hunt, The Other Batheing 4/21/2010
16. St. John Baptist Painted By Her Self In The Wilderness, With Angels Appearing To Him, And With A Lamb By Him. 4/21/2010
17. On The Birth-Day Of Queen Katherine 4/21/2010
18. Penelope To Ulysses. 4/21/2010
19. The Miseries Of Man 12/31/2002
20. On The Dutchess Of Grafton 4/21/2010
21. On The Soft And Gentle Motions Of Eudora 4/21/2010
22. An Epitaph On Her Self. 4/21/2010
23. A Pastoral Dialogue 4/21/2010
24. An Invective Against Gold 1/1/2004
25. On A Young Lady 4/21/2010
26. First Epigram: Upon Being Contented With A Little 12/31/2002
27. Extemporary Counsel Given To A Young Gallant In A Frolick. 4/21/2010
28. An Ode 4/21/2010
29. A Farewel To Worldly Joys 1/1/2004
30. The Complaint Of A Lover 1/1/2004
31. On My Aunt Mrs. A. K. 4/21/2010
32. Love, The Soul Of Poetry 1/1/2004
33. On Death 12/31/2002
Best Poem of Anne Killigrew

On Death

Tell me thou safest End of all our Woe,
Why wreched Mortals do avoid thee so:
Thou gentle drier o'th' afflicteds Tears,
Thou noble ender of the Cowards Fears;
Thou sweet Repose to Lovers sad dispaire,
Thou Calm t'Ambitions rough Tempestuous Care.
If in regard of Bliss thou wert a Curse,
And then the Joys of Paradise art worse;
Yet after Man from his first Station fell,
And God from Eden Adam did expel,
Thou wert no more an Evil, but Relief;
The Balm and Cure to ev'ry Humane Grief:
Through thee (what Man had forfeited before)
He now enjoys, and ne'r ...

Read the full of On Death

The Miseries Of Man

1 In that so temperate Soil Arcadia nam'd,
1 For fertile Pasturage by Poets fam'd;
2 Stands a steep Hill, whose lofty jetting Crown,
3 Casts o'er the neighbouring Plains, a seeming Frown;
4 Close at its mossie Foot an aged Wood,
5 Compos'd of various Trees, there long has stood,
6 Whose thick united Tops scorn the Sun's Ray,
7 And hardly will admit the Eye of Day.
8 By oblique windings through this gloomy Shade,

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