A stream, to mingle with your favourite Dee, Along the vale of meditation flows; So styled by those fierce Britons, pleased to see In Nature's face the expression of repose;...
When future ages shall with wonder view These glorious lines which Harley's daughter drew, They shall confess that Britain could not raise A fairer column to the father's praise.
Daughter to that good Earl, one President Of England's Council and her Treasury, Who lived in both unstained with gold or fee, And left them both, more in himself content,...
Lady! I rifled a Parnassian Cave (But seldom trod) of mildly-gleaming ore; And culled, from sundry beds, a lucid store Of genuine crystals, pure as those that pave The azure brooks, where Dian joys to lave...
When I of Villars do but hear the name, It calls to mind that mighty Buckingham, Who was your brave exalted uncle here, Binding the wheel of fortune to his sphere,...
In spring of youth it was my lot To haunt of the wide world a spot The which I could not love the less, So lovely was the loneliness Of a wild lake, with black rock bound,...
Bird of the morn, When roseate clouds begin To show the opening dawn Thou gladly sing'st it in, And o'er the sweet green fields and happy vales Thy pleasant song is heard, mixed with the morning gales....
Good speed, for I this day Betimes my matins say: Because I do Begin to woo, Sweet-singing lark, Be thou the clerk, And know thy when To say, Amen. And if I prove Bless'd in my love,...
Small twilight singer Of dew and mist: thou ghost-gray, gossamer winger Of dusk's dim glimmer, How cool thy note sounds; how thy wings of shimmer Vibrate, soft-sighing,...
To the leaven'd soil they trod, calling, I sing, for the last; (Not cities, nor man alone, nor war, nor the dead, But forth from my tent emerging for good, loosing, untying the tent-ropes;)...
Thou art my thought, my heart, my being's fortune, The search for thee my growth's first conscious date; For nought, for everything, I thee importune; Thou art my all, my origin and fate!
Ye pretty housewives, would ye know The work that I would put ye to? This, this it should be: for to spin A lawn for me, so fine and thin As it might serve me for my skin....
Thou pulse of hotness, who, with reed-like breast, Makest meridian music, long and loud, Accentuating summer! dost thy best To make the sunbeams fiercer, and to crowd...
1. Thy country's curse is on thee, darkest crest Of that foul, knotted, many-headed worm Which rends our Mother's bosom - Priestly Pest! Masked Resurrection of a buried Form!
Cromwell, our cheif of men, who through a cloud Not of warr onely, but detractions rude, Guided by faith & matchless Fortitude To peace & truth thy glorious way hast plough'd,...
Go on, brave Hopton, to effectuate that Which we, and times to come, shall wonder at. Lift up thy sword; next, suffer it to fall, And by that one blow set an end to all.
My dear Lord Mayor, - In Fleet Street all is gay From min' office window I catch glimpses Of fluttering bunting and swinging festoons. I don't know who pays for them...