Works

Beauteous rose-bud, young and gay,
Blooming in thy early May,
Never may'st thou, lovely flow'r,
Chilly shrink in sleety show'r!
Never Boreas' hoary path,
Never Eurus' poisonous breath,...

1.

Eliza! what fools are the Mussulman sect,
Who to woman deny the soul's future existence,
Could they see thee, Eliza! they'd own their defect,
And this doctrine would meet with a general resistance....

For your letter, dear - [Hattie], accept my best thanks,
Rendered long and amusing by virtue of franks,
Though concise they would please, yet the longer the better,...

(See Note 67)

I honor you, who, though refused, affronted,
Have heard the voice, and victory have won;
I honor you, who still by malice hunted,
Show miracles of faith and power done.
...

Thine be the volumes, Jessy fair,
And with them take the Poet's prayer;
That fate may in her fairest page,
With every kindliest, best presage
Of future bliss, enrol thy name:...

Again the silent wheels of time
Their annual round have driv'n,
And you, tho' scarce in maiden prime,
Are so much nearer Heav'n.

No gifts have I from Indian coasts
The infant year to hail:...

Memories of happy school-days,
In which we view the years gone by,
Long they last, and long they cheer us -
Live well the moments as they fly,
Your youth is passing swiftly by.
...

The single eye, the daughter of the light;
Well pleased to recognise in lowliest shade
Some glimmer of its parent beam, and made
By daily draughts of brightness, inly bright....

In days, my Kate, when life was new,
When, lulled with innocence and you,
I heard, in home's beloved shade,
The din the world at distance made;
When, every night my weary head...

I'll ask the sylph who round thee flies,
And in thy breath his pinion dips,
Who suns him in thy radiant eyes,
And faints upon thy sighing lips:

I'll ask him where's the veil of sleep...

I more than once have heard at night
A song like those thy lip hath given,
And it was sung by shapes of light,
Who looked and breathed, like thee, of heaven.

But this was all a dream of sleep....

There was a young lady of station
'I love man' was her sole exclamation
But when men cried, 'You flatter'
She replied, 'Oh! no matter
Isle of Man is the true explanation.'

Ay me! I love; give him your hand to kiss
Who both your wooer and your poet is.
Nature has precompos'd us both to love:
Your part's to grant; my scene must be to move....

If thou ask me, dear, wherefore
I do write of thee no more,
I must answer, sweet, thy part
Less is here than in my heart.

My Muse in meads has spent her many hours
Sitting, and sorting several sorts of flowers,
To make for others garlands; and to set
On many a head here, many a coronet.
But amongst all encircled here, not one...

One more by thee, love, and desert have sent,
T' enspangle this expansive firmament.
O flame of beauty! come, appear, appear
A virgin taper, ever shining here.

What perfumed, posie-dizened sirrah,
With smiles for diet,
Clasps you, O fair but faithless Pyrrha,
On the quiet?
For whom do you bind up your tresses,
As spun-gold yellow,--...

What dainty boy with sweet perfumes bedewed
Has lavished kisses, Pyrrha, in the cave?
For whom amid the roses, many-hued,
Do you bind back your tresses' yellow wave?
...

A passel o' the boys last night -
An' me amongst 'em - kindo got
To talkin' Temper'nce left an' right,
An' workin' up "blue-ribbon," hot;
An' while we was a-countin' jes'
How many bed gone into hit...

What! can my Kellam drink his sack
In goblets to the brim,
And see his Robin Herrick lack,
Yet send no bowls to him?

For love or pity to his muse,
That she may flow in verse,...