As 'tis now, my dear Tully, some weeks since I started By railroad for earth, having vowed ere we parted To drop you a line by the Dead-Letter post,...
Dear John, as I know, like our brother of London, You've sipt of all knowledge, both sacred and mundane, No doubt, in some ancient Joe Miller, you've read What Cato, that cunning old Roman, once said--...
Alas! my dear friend, what a state of affairs! How unjustly we both are despoiled of our rights! Not a pound of black flesh shall I leave to my heirs, Nor must you any more work to death little whites. ...
Like the bright lamp, that shone in Kildare's holy fane,[1] And burn'd thro' long ages of darkness and storm, Is the heart that sorrows have frowned on in vain, Whose spirit outlives them, unfading and warm....
Erin, the tear and the smile in thine eyes, Blend like the rainbow that hangs in thy skies! Shining through sorrow's stream, Saddening through pleasure's beam, Thy suns with doubtful gleam,...
Oh! weep for the hour, When to Eveleen's bower The Lord of the Valley with false vows came; The moon hid her light From the heavens that night. And wept behind her clouds o'er the maiden's shame. ...
In thus connecting together a series of Songs by a thread of poetical narrative, my chief object has been to combine Recitation with Music, so as to enable a greater number of persons to join in the performance, by enlisting as...
Yet, even here, tho' Fiction rules the hour, There shine some genuine smiles, beyond her power; And there are tears, too--tears that Memory sheds Even o'er the feast that mimic fancy spreads,...
Thro' Manchester Square took a canter just now-- Met the old yellow chariot[1] and made a low bow. This I did, of course, thinking 'twas loyal and civil,...
Where Kings have been by mob-elections Raised to the throne, 'tis strange to see What different and what odd perfections Men have required in Royalty....
I've had a dream that bodes no good Unto the Holy Brotherhood. I may be wrong, but I confess-- As far as it is right or lawful For one, no conjurer, to guess-- It seems to me extremely awful. ...
Of all that, to the sage's survey, This world presents of topsy-turvy, There's naught so much disturbs one's patience, As little minds in lofty stations....
The money raised--the army ready-- Drums beating, and the Royal Neddy Valiantly braying in the van, To the old tune ""Eh, eh, Sire 'ne!"[1]-- Naught wanting, but some coup dramatic,...
Tho' soldiers are the true supports, The natural allies of Courts, Woe to the Monarch, who depends Too much on his red-coated friends; For even soldiers sometimes think--...
Novella, a young Bolognese, The daughter of a learned Law Doctor,[1] Who had with all the subtleties Of old and modern jurists stockt her, Was so exceeding fair, 'tis said,...
Fairest! put on awhile These pinions of light I bring thee, And o'er thy own green isle In fancy let me wing thee. Never did Ariel's plume, At golden sunset hover O'er scenes so full of bloom,...