The soaring lark is blest as proud When at heaven's gate she sings; The roving bee proclaims aloud Her flight by vocal wings; While Ye, in lasting durance pent, Your silent lives employ...
Oh! what's the matter? what's the matter? What is't that ails young Harry Gill? That evermore his teeth they chatter, Chatter, chatter, chatter still! Of waistcoats Harry has no lack,...
At early dawn, or rather when the air Glimmers with fading light, and shadowy Eve Is busiest to confer and to bereave; Then, pensive Votary! let thy feet repair To Gordale-chasm, terrific as the lair...
Among the dwellers in the silent fields The natural heart is touched, and public way And crowded street resound with ballad strains, Inspired by one whose very name bespeaks...
Great men have been among us; hands that penned And tongues that uttered wisdom, better none: The later Sidney, Marvel, Harrington, Young Vane, and others who called Milton friend....
'We' have not passed into a doleful City, We who were led to-day down a grim dell, By some too boldly named "the Jaws of Hell:" Where be the wretched ones, the sights for pity?...
Grief, thou hast lost an ever-ready friend Now that the cottage Spinning-wheel is mute; And Care, a comforter that best could suit Her froward mood, and softliest reprehend;...
A Traveler on the skirt of Sarum's Plain Pursued his vagrant way, with feet half bare; Stooping his gait, but not as if to gain Help from the staff he bore; for mien and air...
Hail Twilight, sovereign of one peaceful hour! Not dull art Thou as undiscerning Night; But studious only to remove from sight Day's mutable distinctions. Ancient Power!...
Hail, Zaragoza! If with unwet eye We can approach, thy sorrow to behold, Yet is the heart not pitiless nor cold; Such spectacle demands not tear or sigh. These desolate remains are trophies high...
Hark! 'tis the Thrush, undaunted, undeprest, By twilight premature of cloud and rain; Nor does that roaring wind deaden his strain Who carols thinking of his Love and nest,...
The Knight had ridden down from Wensley Moor With the slow motion of a summer's cloud, And now, as he approached a vassal's door, "Bring forth another horse!" he cried aloud. ...
Here stood an Oak, that long had borne affixed To his huge trunk, or, with more subtle art, Among its withering topmost branches mixed, The palmy antlers of a hunted Hart,...
Here pause: the poet claims at least this praise, That virtuous Liberty hath been the scope Of his pure song, which did not shrink from hope In the worst moment of these evil days;...
Her eyes are wild, her head is bare, The sun has burnt her coal-black hair; Her eyebrows have a rusty stain, And she came far from over the main. She has a baby on her arm,...
Her only pilot the soft breeze, the boat Lingers, but Fancy is well satisfied; With keen-eyed Hope, with Memory, at her side, And the glad Muse at liberty to note All that to each is precious, as we float...
See what gay wild flowers deck this earth-built Cot, Whose smoke, forth-issuing whence and how it may, Shines in the greeting of the sun's first ray Like wreaths of vapour without stain or blot....
"Who but hails the sight with pleasure When the wings of genius rise, Their ability to measure With great enterprise; But in man was ne'er such daring As yon Hawk exhibits, pairing...
Of mortal parents is the Hero born By whom the undaunted Tyrolese are led? Or is it Tell's great Spirit, from the dead Returned to animate an age forlorn? He comes like Phoebus through the gates of morn...
Homeward we turn. Isle of Columba's Cell, Where Christian piety's soul-cheering spark (Kindled from Heaven between the light and dark Of time) shone like the morning-star, farewell!...