Above the city hung the moon, Right o'er a plot of ground Where flowers and orchard-trees were fenced With lofty walls around: 'Twas Gilbert's garden, there to-night Awhile he walked alone;...
What is she writing? Watch her now, How fast her fingers move! How eagerly her youthful brow Is bent in thought above! Her long curls, drooping, shade the light, She puts them quick aside,...
Plough, vessel, plough the British main, Seek the free ocean's wider plain; Leave English scenes and English skies, Unbind, dissever English ties; Bear me to climes remote and strange,...
Warm is the parlour atmosphere, Serene the lamp's soft light; The vivid embers, red and clear, Proclaim a frosty night. Books, varied, on the table lie, Three children o'er them bend,...
The room is quiet, thoughts alone People its mute tranquillity; The yoke put off, the long task done, I am, as it is bliss to be, Still and untroubled. Now, I see, For the first time, how soft the day...
Above the city hangs the moon, Some clouds are boding rain; Gilbert, erewhile on journey gone, To-night comes home again. Ten years have passed above his head, Each year has brought him gain;...
Sit still, a word, a breath may break (As light airs stir a sleeping lake) The glassy calm that soothes my woes, The sweet, the deep, the full repose. O leave me not! for ever be...
But two miles more, and then we rest! Well, there is still an hour of day, And long the brightness of the West Will light us on our devious way; Sit then, awhile, here in this wood,...