Matthew Prior

(1664 - 1721 / Dorset / England)

Matthew Prior Poems

41. For My Own Tombstone 4/19/2010
42. Fair Susan Did Her Wif-Hede Well Menteine - In Chaucer's Style 4/19/2010
43. Epigram - Frank Carves Very Ill 4/19/2010
44. Epigram - Yes, Every Poet Is A Fool 4/19/2010
45. An Ode To Mr. Howard 4/19/2010
46. The Wandering Pilgrim 4/19/2010
47. To My Lord Buckhurst, Very Young, Playing With A Cat 4/19/2010
48. To The Lady Elizabeth Harley, Since Marchioness Of Carmarthen, On A Column Of Her Drawing 4/19/2010
49. To The Lady Dursley 4/19/2010
50. To A Person Who Wrote Ill, And Spake Worse, Against Me 4/19/2010
51. To A Young Lady, Who Was Fond Of Fortune-Telling 4/19/2010
52. To Cloe 4/19/2010
53. To Fortune 4/19/2010
54. Cloe Jealous 4/19/2010
55. Her Right Name 4/19/2010
56. Songs Set To Music: 11. Set By Mr. De Fesch 4/19/2010
57. Songs Set To Music: 27. 4/19/2010
58. An Ode. The Merchant, To Secure 4/19/2010
59. Epitaph Extempore 4/19/2010
60. The Viceroy. A Ballad. 4/19/2010
61. To The Author Of The Foregoing Pastoral - (Love And Friendship) 4/19/2010
62. The Parallel 4/19/2010
63. The Dove 4/19/2010
64. Presented To The King, At His Arrival In Holland, After The Discovery Of The Conspiracy. 1696 4/19/2010
65. On Bishop Atterbury's Burying The Duke Of Buckingham, 1721 4/19/2010
66. In Imitation Of Anacreon 4/19/2010
67. Songs Set To Music: 14. Set By Mr. Smith 4/19/2010
68. Epitaph - On Himself 4/19/2010
69. Epigram - To John I Owed Great Obligation 4/19/2010
70. To A Poet Of Quality. Praising The Lady Hinchinbroke 4/19/2010
71. Two Riddles. -- 1710 4/19/2010
72. Written At Paris, 1700. In The Beginning Of Robe's Geography 4/19/2010
73. Epigram - Thy Nags, The Leanest Things Alive 4/19/2010
74. On Beauty. A Riddle 4/19/2010
75. The Dying Adrian To His Soul 4/19/2010
76. Songs Set To Music: 7. Set By Mr. De Fesch 4/19/2010
77. Written In An Ovid 4/19/2010
78. The Secretary 4/19/2010
79. To A Friend On His Nuptials 4/19/2010
80. The Second Hymn Of Callimachus. To Apollo 4/19/2010
Best Poem of Matthew Prior

A Simile

Dear Thomas, didst thou never pop
Thy head into a tin-man's shop?
There, Thomas, didst thou never see
('Tis but by way of simile)
A squirrel spend his little rage
In jumping round a rolling cage?
The cage, as either side turn'd up,
Striking a ring of bells a-top?--

Mov'd in the orb, pleas'd with the chimes,
The foolish creature thinks he climbs:
But here or there, turn wood or wire,
He never gets two inches higher.

So fares it with those merry blades,
That frisk it under Pindus' shades.
In noble songs, and lofty odes,
They tread on stars, ...

Read the full of A Simile

On My Birthday, July 21

I, MY dear, was born to-day--
So all my jolly comrades say:
They bring me music, wreaths, and mirth,
And ask to celebrate my birth:
Little, alas! my comrades know
That I was born to pain and woe;
To thy denial, to thy scorn,
Better I had ne'er been born:
I wish to die, even whilst I say--

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