I know thou art true, and I know thou art fair As the rose-bud that blooms in thy beautiful hair; Thou art far, but I feel the warm throb of thy heart; Thou art far, but I love thee wherever thou art. ...
O Sylvia, dost thou remember still That period of thy mortal life, When beauty so bewildering Shone in thy laughing, glancing eyes, As thou, so merry, yet so wise, Youth's threshold then wast entering?...
I have made for you a song, And it may be right or wrong, But only you can tell me if it's true; I have tried for to explain Both your pleasure and your pain,...
Farewell! loved youth, for still I hold thee dear, Though thou hast left me friendless and alone; Still, still thy name recals the heartfelt tear, That hastes MATILDA to her wish'd-for home. ...
Dear Sir or Madam (As the case may be), - Peace hath her victories as well as war And sometimes When I have occasion to travel In this muggy metropolis of ours,...
Your peaks are beautiful, ye Apennines! In the soft light of these serenest skies; From the broad highland region, black with pines, Fair as the hills of Paradise they rise,...
You tell me these great lords have raised up Art: I say they have degraded it. Look you, When ever did they let the poet sing, The painter paint, the sculptor hew and cast,...
Begone, ye Critics, and restrain your spite, Codrus writes on, and will for ever write, The heaviest Muse the swiftest course has gone, As clocks run fastest when most lead is on;...
The men renown'd as chiefs of human race, And born to lead in counsels or in arms, Have seldom turn'd their feet from glory's chace To dwell with books or court the Muse's charms....
By Sylvia if thy charming self be meant; If friendship be thy virgin vows' extent, O! let me in Aminta's praises join, Hers my esteem shall be, my passion thine. When for thy head the garland I prepare,...
Go, faithful Portrait! and where long hath knelt Margaret, the Saintly Foundress, take thy place; And, if Time spare the colours for the grace Which to the work surpassing skill hath dealt,...
Oh, not more subtly silence strays Amongst the winds, between the voices, Mingling alike with pensive lays, And with the music that rejoices, Than thou art present in my days. ...
Beauty beloved, who hast my heart inspired, Seen from afar, or with thy face concealed, Save, when in visions of the night revealed, Or seen in daydreams bright, When all the fields are filled with light,...