A simple ring with a single stone, To the vulgar eye no stone of price: Whisper the right word, that alone, Forth starts a sprite, like fire from ice, And lo, you are lord (says an Eastern scroll)...
Stranger! mark this lovely scene, When the evening sets serene, And starting o'er the silent wood, The last pale sunshine streaks the flood, And the water gushing near...
Unto a pleasant grove or such like place, Where here the curious cutting of a hedge: There, by a pond, the trimming of the sedge: Here the fine setting of well-shading trees:...
"Son of my buried Son, while thus thy hand" "Is clasping mine, it saddens me to think" "How Want may press thee down, and with thee sink" "Thy children left unfit, through vain demand"...
Underneath an apple-tree Sat a dame of comely seeming, With her work upon her knee, And her great eyes idly dreaming. O'er the harvest-acres bright, Came her husband's din of reaping;...
Ofttimes my great desire doth flatter me With hope on earth yet many years to stay: Still Death, the more I love it, day by day Takes from the life I love so tenderly....
God grant a blessing on this tower and cottage And on my heirs, if all remain unspoiled, No table or chair or stool not simple enough For shepherd lads in Galilee; and grant...
As when that hero, who, in each campaign, Had braved the Goth, and many a Vandal slain, Lay fortune-struck, a spectacle of woe! Wept by each friend, forgiven by every foe:...
'Tis the witching hour of night, Orbed is the moon and bright, And the stars they glisten, glisten, Seeming with bright eyes to listen, For what listen they? For a song and for a charm,...
Ponder my words, if so that any be Known guilty here of incivility; Let what is graceless, discomposed, and rude, With sweetness, smoothness, softness be endued: Teach it to blush, to curtsy, lisp, and show...
O'er town, and works, and waves amain Far fell grim Ruin's furious rain, O'er parapet and mast, And riding on the thunder-swell Far flew the shot, far flew the shell Red Havoc on the blast!...
At Plymouth Rock a handful of brave souls, Full-armed in faith, erected home and shrine, And flourished where the wild Atlantic rolls Its pyramids of brine.
As a beam o'er the face of the waters may glow While the tide runs in darkness and coldness below, So the cheek may be tinged with a warm sunny smile, Though the cold heart to ruin runs darkly the while. ...
His Grace! impossible! what, dead! Of old age too, and in his bed! And could that mighty warrior fall, And so inglorious, after all? Well, since he's gone, no matter how,...