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, ...
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....
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. ...
Tyrant of all our loves and friendships here, Behold thy beauteous victim! - Ah! tis thine To rend fond hearts, and start the tend'rest tear Where joy should long in cloudless radiance shine. ...
Sing, bird of grief! still eve descending, And soothe a mind with sorrow rending; Ne'er may I see the blush of morrow, But close this night the sigh of sorrow;
In Mousseau's sweet Arcadian dale Fair Delphine pours the plaintive strain; She charms the list'ning nightingale, And seems th' enchantress of the plain.
To my Muse give attention, and deem it not a mystery If I jumble up together music, poetry, and history, To sing of the vices of wicked Queen Bess, sir, Whose memory posterity with blushes shall confess, sir,...
No gentleman of England now sits at home at ease, But emulates on shore the heroes of the seas; A common cause unites them, to meet the daring foe, All they wish, all they ask, is a fav'ring wind to blow. ...
N'offrant qu'un coeur ' la Beaut', Nud comme la Verit', Sans armes comme l'Innocence, Sans a'les comme la Constance, Tel fut l'Amour dans le siecle d'or,...
By the walk of the willows I pour'd out my theme, The breath of the evening scarce dimpled the stream; By the waters I stood, like an image of Woe, And my tears, like the tide, seem'd to tremble and flow. ...
Time, since thou gav'st this flow'r to me, Has often turn'd his glass of sand; Perchance 'tis now unknown to thee That once its breath perfum'd thy hand.