What strong allurement draws, what spirit guides, Thee, Vesper! brightening still, as if the nearer Thou com'st to man's abode the spot grew dearer Night after night? True is it Nature hides...
Though joy attend Thee orient at the birth Of dawn, it cheers the lofty spirit most To watch thy course when Day-light, fled from earth, In the grey sky hath left his lingering Ghost,...
Bard of the Fleece, whose skilful genius made That work a living landscape fair and bright; Nor hallowed less with musical delight Than those soft scenes through which thy childhood strayed,...
Enlightened Teacher, gladly from thy hand Have I received this proof of pains bestowed By Thee to guide thy Pupils on the road That, in our native isle, and every land,...
Among the mountains were we nursed, loved Stream Thou near the eagle's nest, within brief sail, I, of his bold wing floating on the gale, Where thy deep voice could lull me! Faint the beam...
Greta, what fearful listening! when huge stones Rumble along thy bed, block after block: Or, whirling with reiterated shock, Combat, while darkness aggravates the groans:...
Enough of climbing toil! Ambition treads Here, as 'mid busier scenes, ground steep and rough, Or slippery even to peril! and each step, As we for most uncertain recompence...
Pleasures newly found are sweet When they lie about our feet: February last, my heart First at sight of thee was glad; All unheard of as thou art, Thou must needs, I think, have had,...
With little here to do or see Of things that in the great world be, Daisy! again I talk to thee, For thou art worthy, Thou unassuming Common-place Of Nature, with that homely face,...
Enough of climbing toil! Ambition treads Here, as 'mid busier scenes, ground steep and rough, Or slippery even to peril! and each step, As we for most uncertain recompence...
Pansies, lilies, kingcups, daisies, Let them live upon their praises; Long as there's a sun that sets, Primroses will have their glory; Long as there are violets, They will have a place in story:...
Spade! with which Wilkinson hath tilled his lands, And shaped these pleasant walks by Emont's side, Thou art a tool of honour in my hands; I press thee, through the yielding soil, with pride. ...
The prayers I make will then be sweet indeed If Thou the spirit give by which I pray: My unassisted heart is barren clay, That of its native self can nothing feed: Of good and pious works thou art the seed,...
How art thou named? In search of what strange land From what huge height, descending? Can such force Of waters issue from a British source, Or hath not Pindus fed thee, where the band...
Toussaint, the most unhappy man of men! Whether the whistling Rustic tend his plough Within thy hearing, or thy head be now Pillowed in some deep dungeon's earless den; O miserable Chieftain! where and when...
Lie here, without a record of thy worth, Beneath a covering of the common earth! It is not from unwillingness to praise, Or want of love, that here no Stone we raise;...
Next morning Troilus began to clear His eyes from sleep, at the first break of day, And unto Pandarus, his own Brother dear, For love of God, full piteously did say,...