By duty bound, and not by custome led To celebrate the praises of the dead, My mournfull mind, sore prest, in trembling verse Presents my Lamentations at his Herse, Who was my Father, Guide, Instructor too,...
I, who have favour'd many, come to be Grac'd now, at last, or glorified by thee, Lo! I, the lyric prophet, who have set On many a head the delphic coronet, Come unto thee for laurel, having spent...
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,...
When, Reverend Sir, your good design, To clothe our Pilgrim gravely fine, And give him gentler mien and gait, First reached my ear, his doubtful fate With dread suspense my mind oppressed,...
While at the stook the shearers cow'r To shun the bitter blaudin' show'r, Or in gulravage rinnin' scow'r To pass the time, To you I dedicate the hour In idle rhyme....
My dear Mr. Chamberlain, Since you last heard from me, Many curious things have happened, Both in Birmingham and abroad. As to the happenings in Birmingham,...
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...
How quick the change from joy to woe, How chequer'd is our lot below! Seldom we view the prospect fair; Dark clouds of sorrow, pain, and care (Some pleasing intervals between),...
I'm one o' these cur'ous kind o' chaps You think you know when you don't, perhaps! I hain't no fool - ner I don't p'tend To be so smart I could rickommend Myself fer a CONGERSSMAN my friend! -...
Praised be thou, O Jesus Christ, That a man on earth thou liest! Born of a maiden--it is true-- In this exults the heavenly crew. Kyrioleis.[1] [Footnote 1: (Greek) kurie elxaeson: Lord, have mercy.]...
Vast and mysterious brother, ere was yet of me So much as men may poise upon a needle's end, Still shook with laughter all this monstrous might of thee, And still with haughty crest it called the morning friend....
A little time, O Love, a little light, A little hour for ease before the night. Sweet Love, that art so bitter; foolish Love, Whom wise men know for wiser, and thy dove...
Johnny, sweetheart, can you be true To all those famous vows you've made, Will you love me as I love you Until we both in earth are laid? Or shall the old wives nod and say His love was only for a day:...
Which it is not my style To produce needless pain By statements that rile Or that go 'gin the grain, But here's Captain Jack still a-livin', and Nye has no skelp on his brain! ...
A red rose in my lady's hair, A white rose in her fingers, A wild bird singing low, somewhere, A song that pulses, lingers. The sound of dancing and of mirth, The fiddle's merry chiming,...