Where others love and praise my verses, still Thy long black thumb-nail marks them out for ill: A fellon take it, or some whitflaw come For to unslate or to untile that thumb!...
Gloomy and dark art thou, O chief of the mighty Omahas; Gloomy and dark as the driving cloud, whose name thou hast taken! Wrapt in thy scarlet blanket, I see thee stalk through the city's...
When factious rage to cruel exile drove The queen of beauty,[1] and the court of love, The Muses droop'd, with their forsaken arts, And the sad Cupids broke their useless darts:...
O Patriot Statesman, be thou wise to know The limits of resistance, and the bounds Determining concession; still be bold Not only to slight praise but suffer scorn; And be thy heart a fortress to maintain...
Dorset! whose early steps with mine have stray'd, Exploring every path of Ida's glade; Whom, still, affection taught me to defend, And made me less a tyrant than a friend,...
Because thou hast believ'd, the wheels of life Stand never idle, but go always round: Not by their hands, who vex the patient ground, Mov'd only; but by genius, in the strife...
Where can I find sufficient strength and force That could reverse the Dvina’s normal course, And speed me, pillowed on its swirling foam, Back to my native country, to my home?...
Lonsdale! it were unworthy of a Guest, Whose heart with gratitude to thee inclines, If he should speak, by fancy touched, of signs On thy Abode harmoniously imprest,...
Whether the fruitful Nile, or Tyrian shore, The seeds of arts and infant science bore, 'Tis sure the noble plant, translated first, Advanced its head in Grecian gardens nursed....
When my date's done, and my grey age must die, Nurse up, great lord, this my posterity: Weak though it be, long may it grow and stand, Shored up by you, brave Earl of Westmoreland.
I 's feelin' kin' o' lonesome in my little room to-night, An' my min 's done los' de minutes an' de miles, Wile it teks me back a-flyin' to de country of delight, Whaih de Chesapeake goes grumblin' er wid smiles....
To thee, lov'd Nith, thy gladsome plains, Where late wi' careless thought I rang'd, Though prest wi' care and sunk in woe, To thee I bring a heart unchang'd.
You are at least a man, of men a king. You have a heart, and with that heart you love. The race you come from is not gendered of The filthy sty whose latest litter cling...
To thee, old Cause! Thou peerless, passionate, good cause! Thou stern, remorseless, sweet Idea! Deathless throughout the ages, races, lands! After a strange, sad war, great war for thee,...
Thou fair-haired angel of the evening, Now, whilst the sun rests on the mountains, light Thy bright torch of love; thy radiant crown Put on, and smile upon our evening bed!...
The woods waved welcome in the breeze, When, many years ago, Lured by the songs of birds and bees, I sought the dell below; And there, in that secluded spot, Where silver streamlets roved,...