When after many lusters thou shalt be Wrapt up in sear-cloth with thine ancestry; When of thy ragg'd escutcheons shall be seen So little left, as if they ne'er had been;...
Tell me, young man, or did the Muses bring Thee less to taste than to drink up their spring, That none hereafter should be thought, or be A poet, or a poet-like but thee?...
Stand with thy graces forth, brave man, and rise High with thine own auspicious destinies: Nor leave the search, and proof, till thou canst find These, or those ends, to which thou wast design'd....
Nor is my number full till I inscribe Thee, sprightly Soame, one of my righteous tribe; A tribe of one lip, leaven, and of one Civil behaviour, and religion; A stock of saints, where ev'ry one doth wear...
By many a bard the Cameron clan is sung, Their march, their charge, their war cry, their array; Their laurels that from bloody fields have sprung, Where they have kept the sternest foes at bay. ...
When by my solitary hearth I sit, And hateful thoughts enwrap my soul in gloom; When no fair dreams before my "mind's eye" flit, And the bare heath of life presents no bloom;...
Oh! take, young Seraph, take thy harp, And play to me so cheerily; For grief is dark, and care is sharp, And life wears on so wearily. Oh! take thy harp! Oh! sing as thou wert wont to do,...
Two Suns of Love make day of human life, Which else with all its pains, and griefs, and deaths, Were utter darkness'one, the Sun of dawn That brightens thro' the Mother's tender eyes,...
Our Poet, who has taught the Western breeze To waft his songs before him o'er the seas, Will find them wheresoe'er his wanderings reach Borne on the spreading tide of English speech...
I heed not that my earthly lot Hath'little of Earth in it, That years of love have been forgot In the hatred of a minute: I mourn not that the desolate Are happier, sweet, than I,...
I love thee, Baby! for thine own sweet sake; Those azure eyes, that faintly dimpled cheek, Thy tender frame, so eloquently weak, Love in the sternest heart of hate might wake;...
Spouse of penniless Ibycus, Thus late, bring to a close all thy delinquencies, All thy studious infamy:- Nearing swiftly the grave - (that not an early one) -...
The star which comes at close of day to shine More heavenly bright than when it leads the morn, Is friendship's emblem, whether the forlorn She visiteth, or, shedding light benign...
Not long ago, the writer of these lines, In the mad pride of intellectuality, Maintained "the power of words", denied that ever A thought arose within the human brain...
When weary with the long day's care, And earthly change from pain to pain, And lost, and ready to despair, Thy kind voice calls me back again: Oh, my true friend! I am not lone,...
O India, India, O my lovely land - At whose sweet throat the greedy English snake, With fangs and lips that suck and never slake, Clings, while around thee, band by stifling band,...
Such age how beautiful! O Lady bright, Whose mortal lineaments seem all refined By favouring Nature and a saintly Mind To something purer and more exquisite...