I marked where lovely Venus and her court With song and dance and merry laugh went by; Weightless, their wingless feet seemed made to fly, Bound from the ground and in mid air to sport....
Down the long hall she glistens like a star, The foam-born mother of Love, transfixed to stone, Yet none the less immortal, breathing on. Time's brutal hand hath maimed but could not mar....
Verse-making was least of my virtues: I viewed with despair Wealth that never yet was but might be, all that verse-making were If the life would but lengthen to wish, let the mind be laid bare....
Hither from Mexico I came, To serve a proud Iernian dame: Was long submitted to her will; At length she lost me at quadrille. Through various shapes I often pass'd, Still hoping to have rest at last;...
A paper book is sent by Boyle, Too neatly gilt for me to soil. Delany sends a silver standish, When I no more a pen can brandish. Let both around my tomb be placed: As trophies of a Muse deceased;...
Think not, thou pride of Summer's softest strain! Sweet dress of Nature, in her virgin bloom! That thou hast flutter'd to the breeze in vain, Or unlamented found thy native tomb. ...
The joyous day illumes the sky That bids each care and sorrow fly To shades of endless night: E'en frozen age, thawed in the fires Of social mirth, feels young desires, And tastes of fresh delight....
Madam, Since Anna visited the muse's seat, (Around her tomb let weeping angels wait) Hail, thou, the brightest of thy sex, and best, Most gracious neighbour and most welcome guest:...
Here, where the Scottish muse immortal lives, In sacred strains and tuneful numbers join'd, Accept the gift; tho' humble he who gives, Rich is the tribute of the grateful mind. ...
Once wisdom dwelt in tomes of ponderous size, While friendship from a pocketbook would talk; But now that knowledge in small compass lies, And floats in almanacs, as light as cork,...
Curse on ungrateful man, that can be pleas'd, And yet can starve the author of the pleasure! O thou my elder brother in misfortune, By far my elder brother in the muses, With tears I pity thy unhappy fate!...
Very true, the linnets sing Sweetest in the leaves of spring: You have found in all these leaves That which changes and deceives, And, to pine by sun or star, Left them, false ones as they are....
Sea and land are fairer now, nor aught is all the same, Since a mightier hand than Time's hath woven their votive wreath. Rocks as swords half drawn from out the smooth wave's jewelled sheath,...
Victory comes late, And is held low to freezing lips Too rapt with frost To take it. How sweet it would have tasted, Just a drop! Was God so economical? His table 's spread too high for us...
As fought the Paladins of old, With gleaming swords and spirit bold, To thwart the schemes of base Lothar, Give France to Karl in holy war, So would we battle for the right,...