Sweet Phyllis, leave thy quiet home, For lo! the ides of April come! Then hasten to my bower; A cask of rich Albanian wine, In nine years mellowness, is mine, To glad the festal hour. ...
Conscious the mortal stamp is on thy breast, O, ERSKINE! still an equal mind maintain, That wild Ambition ne'er may goad thy rest, Nor Fortune's smile awake thy triumph vain, ...
The snows dissolve, the rains no more pollute, Green are the sloping fields, and uplands wide, And green the trees luxuriant tresses shoot, And, in their daisied banks, the shrinking rivers glide. ...
When Life's realities the Soul perceives Vain, dull, perchance corrosive, if she glows With rising energy, and open throws The golden gates of Genius, she achieves His fairy clime delighted, and receives...
The Future, and its gifts, alone we prize, Few joys the Present brings, and those alloy'd; Th' expected fulness leaves an aching void; But HOPE stands by, and lifts her sunny eyes...
From these wild heights, where oft the mists descend In rains, that shroud the sun, and chill the gale, Each transient, gleaming interval we hail, And rove the naked vallies, and extend...
And now the youthful, gay, capricious Spring, Piercing her showery clouds with crystal light, And with their hues reflected streaking bright Her radiant bow, bids all her Warblers sing;...
Seek not, my Lesbia, the sequester'd dale, Or bear thou to its shades a tranquil heart; Since rankles most in solitude the smart Of injur'd charms and talents, when they fail...
The knell of WHITEHEAD tolls! - his cares are past, The hapless tribute of his purchas'd lays, His servile, his Egyptian tasks of praise! - If not sublime his strains, Fame justly plac'd...
Loud blew the North thro' April's pallid days, Nor grass the field, nor leaves the grove obtains, Nor crystal sun-beams, nor the gilded rains, That bless the hours of promise, gently raise...
Time, and thy charms, thou fanciest will redeem Yon aweless Libertine from rooted vice. Misleading thought! has he not paid the price, His taste for virtue? - Ah, the sensual stream...
Cou'd aweful Johnson want poetic ear, Fancy, or judgment? - no! his splendid strain, In prose, or rhyme, confutes that plea. - The pain Which writh'd o'er Garrick's fortunes, shows us clear...
Ah, hapless JUNE! circles yon lunar Sphere Yet the dim Halo? whose cold powers ordain Long o'er these vales shou'd sweep, in misty train, The pale continuous showers, that sullying smear...
Yes, thou shalt smile again! - Time always heals In youth, the wounds of Sorrow. - O! survey Yon now subsided Deep, thro' Night a prey To warring Winds, and to their furious peals...
My Angel Sister, tho' thy lovely form Perish'd in Youth's gay morning, yet is mine This precious Ringlet! - still the soft hairs shine, Still glow the nut-brown tints, all bright and warm...
In this chill morning of a wintry Spring I look into the gloom'd and rainy vale; The sullen clouds, the stormy winds assail, Lour on the fields, and with impetuous wing...
My memory, long accustom'd to receive In deep-engraven lines, each varying trait Past Times and Seasons wore, can find no date Thro' many years, O! MAY, when thou hadst leave,...
Since dark December shrouds the transient day, And stormy Winds are howling in their ire, Why com'st not THOU, who always can'st inspire The soul of cheerfulness, and best array...
While with false pride, and narrow jealousy, Numbers reject each new expression, won, Perchance, from language richer than our own, O! with glad welcome may the POET see...
Ceas'd is the rain; but heavy drops yet fall From the drench'd roof; - yet murmurs the sunk wind Round the dim hills; can yet a passage find Whistling thro' yon cleft rock, and ruin'd wall....