To Mr. Thomas Southern, on his Birth-Day poem – Alexander Pope

A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) , the greatest English poet of “Augustan” or Georgian period

Resign’d to live, prepar’d to die,

With not one sin, but poetry,

This day Tom’s fair account has run

(Without a blot) to eighty-one.

Kind Boyle, before his poet, lays

A table, with a cloth of bays;

And Ireland, mother of sweet singers,

Presents her harp still to his fingers.

The feast, his tow’ring genius marks

In yonder wild goose and the larks!

The mushrooms shew his wit was sudden!

And for his judgement, lo a pudden!

Roast beef, tho’ old, proclaims him stout,

And grace, altho’ a bard, devout.

May Tom, whom heav’n send down to raise

The price of prologues and of plays,

He ev’ry birth-day more a winner,

Digest his thirty thousandth dinner;

Walk to his grave without reproach,

And scorn a rascal and a coach.

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Poems in English 

• Arrival by William Carlos Williams by William Carlos Williams
• April Is The Saddest Month by William Carlos Williams by William Carlos Williams
• Après le Bain by William Carlos Williams by William Carlos Williams
• Approach Of Winter by William Carlos Williams by William Carlos Williams
• A Sort Of A Song by William Carlos Williams by William Carlos Williams
• A Goodnight by William Carlos Williams by William Carlos Williams
• A Celebration by William Carlos Williams by William Carlos Williams
• Women And Roses by Robert Browning by Anglo File
• Venus, on a fur by Witty Fay by Anglo File
• Ultima Thule by William Ellery Leonard by Anglo File
• To the Victor by William Ellery Leonard by Anglo File
• The Image Of Delight by William Ellery Leonard by Anglo File
• The First Part: Sonnet 5 – How that vast heaven intitled First is roll’d, by William Drummond by Anglo File
• The First Part: Sonnet 4 – Fair is my yoke, though grievous be my pains, by William Drummond by Anglo File
• The First Part: Sonnet 3 – Ye who so curiously do paint your thoughts, by William Drummond by Anglo File
• The First Part: Sonnet 2 – I know that all beneath the moon decays by William Drummond by Anglo File
• The First Part: Sonnet 14 – Nor Arne, nor Mincius, nor stately Tiber, by William Drummond by Anglo File
• The First Part: Sonnet 13 – O sacred blush, impurpling cheeks’ pure skies by William Drummond by Anglo File
• The First Part: Sonnet 12 – Ah! burning thoughts, now let me take some rest, by William Drummond by Anglo File
• The First Part: Sonnet 11 – Lamp of heaven’s crystal hall that brings the hours, by William Drummond by Anglo File

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