The Cit, relying on his trade, Which, like all other things, may fade, Longs for a curricle and villa: This Hatchet splendidly supplies, The other Cock'ril builds, or buys,...
Bristol! in vain thy rocks attempt the sky, The wild woods waving on their giddy brow; And vainly, devious Avon! vainly sigh Thy waters, winding thro' the vales below; - ...
When men exert their utmost pow'rs, To while away the tedious hours, With soothing Flatt'ry's art, When ev'ry art and work well skill'd, And ev'ry look with poison fill'd, Assail a woman's heart, ...
The sign of the house should be chang'd, I'll be sworn, Where enchanted we find so much beauty and grace; Then quick from the door let the lion be torn, And an angel expand her white wings in his place.
Adieu! dear girl! if we are doom'd to part, Take with thee, take, the blessing of this heart, Due to thy gentle mind, and cultur'd sense; Perhaps 'twill please, but, sure, can't give offence....
Go, little flutt'rer! seek thy feather'd loves, And leave a wretched mourner to his woe; Seek out the bow'rs of bliss, seek happier groves, Nor here unheeded let thy music flow. ...
In days that long have glided by, Beneath keen Scotia's weeping sky, On many a hill of purple heath, In many a gloomy glen beneath, The wand'ring Lyrist once was known...
Tho' unknown is the hand that bestow'd thee on me, Sweet leaf! ev'ry fibre I'll warm with a kiss: With the fame of her beauty thou well dost agree, Whose presence shews conquest, whose triumph is bliss!
Thou rear'st thy beauteous head, sweet flow'r Gemm'd by the soft and vernal show'r; Its drops still round thee shine: The florist views thee with delight; And, if so precious in his sight,...
Oh! form'd to prompt the smile or tear, At once so sweet, yet so severe! As much for you as him I grieve; Ah! thoughtless! if you thus can leave A mind with wit and learning bright,...
Once, for a palace, Painting left her grove, And taught her royal fav'rite's hand to trace A beauteous maiden's tale of little Love, His silken wings, soft limbs, and laughing face! ...
Oh! why does sorrow shade thy face, Where mind and beauty vie with grace? Say, dost thou for thy hero weep, Who gallantly, upon the deep, Is gone to tell the madd'ning foe,...
I look'd the fragrant garden round For what I thought would picture best Thy beauty and thy modesty; A lily and a rose I found, - With kisses on their leaves imprest, I send the beauteous pair to thee.
Tho' nought, amid these darkened groves, But various groups of death appear, Scar'd at the sight, tho' fly the Loves, And Sickness saddens all the year,
Dire were the horrors of that ruthless storm, That for young Lycid form'd a wat'ry grave; Oh! many wept to see his fainting form Unaided sink beneath th' o'erwhelming wave. ...
Hier rees die groote zon, en ging te Bazel onder! De Rykstad eer' en vier' dien Heilig in zyn grav; Dit tweede leeven geevt, die't eerste leeven gav:...