Yes; you contemn the perjur'd maid Who all your favorite hopes betray'd: Nor, though her heart should home return, Her tuneful tongue it's falsehood mourn, Her winning eyes your faith implore,...
Oh fly! 'tis dire Suspicion's mien; And, meditating plagues unseen, The sorceress hither bends: Behold her torch in gall imbrued: Behold'her garment drops with blood Of lovers and of friends....
Such was old Chaucer. such the placid mien Of him who first with harmony inform'd The language of our fathers. Here he dwelt For many a cheerful day. these ancient walls...
The radiant ruler of the year At length his wintry goal attains; Soon to reverse the long career, And northward bend his steady reins. Now, piercing half Potosi's height,...
If, yet regardful of your native land, Old Shakespeare's tongue you deign to understand, Lo, from the blissful bowers where heaven rewards Instructive sages and unblemish'd bards,...
O rustic herald of the spring, At length in yonder woody vale Fast by the brook i hear thee sing; And, studious of thy homely tale, Amid the vespers of the grove, Amid the chanting choir of love,...
Thou silent power, whose welcome sway Charms every anxious thought away; In whose divine oblivion drown'd, Sore pain and weary toil grow mild, Love is with kinder looks beguil'd,...
On yonder verdant hilloc laid, Where oaks and elms, a friendly shade, O'erlook the falling stream, O master of the Latin lyre, Awhile with thee will i retire From summer's noontide beam....
How oft shall i survey This humble roof, the lawn, the greenwood shade, The vale with sheaves o'erspread, The glassy brook, the flocks which round thee stray? When will thy cheerful mind...
Whither did my fancy stray? By what magic drawn away Have I left my studious theme? From this philosophic page, From the problems of the sage, Wandering thro' a pleasing dream?...
Thrice hath the spring beheld thy faded fame Since I exulting grasp'd the tuneful shell: Eager through endless years to sound thy name, Proud that my memory with thine should dwell....
Come then, tell me, sage divine, Is it an offence to own That our bosoms e'er incline Toward immortal glory's throne? For with me nor pomp, nor pleasure, Bourbon's might, Braganza's treasure,...
Thou, heedless Albion, what, alas, the while Dost thou presume? O inexpert in arms, Yet vain of freedom, how dost thou beguile, With dreams of hope, these near and loud alarms?...
Of all the springs within the mind Which prompt her steps in fortune's maze, From none more pleasing aid we find Than from the genuine love of praise. Nor any partial, private end...
Come then, tell me, sage divine, Is it an offense to own That our bosoms e'er incline Toward immortal glory's throne? For with me nor pomp, nor pleasure, Bourbon's might, Braganza's treasure,...
Meek honor, female shame, O! whither, sweetest offspring of the sky, From Albion dost thou fly; Of Albion's daughters once the favorite fame? O beauty's only friend,...
Farewell to Leyden's lonely bound, The Belgian Muse's sober seat; Where dealing frugal gifts around To all the favorites at her feet, She trains the body's bulky frame...
No, foolish youth, To virtuous fame If now thy early hopes be vow'd, If true ambition's nobler flame Command thy footsteps from the croud, Lean not to love's inchanting snare;...
Once more I join the Thespian choir, And taste the inspiring fount again: O parent of the Grecian lyre, Admit me to thy powerful strain And lo, with ease my step invades...
Thy verdant scenes, O Goulder's hill, Once more I seek, a languid guest: With throbbing temples and with burden'd breast Once more I climb thy steep aerial way. O faithful cure of oft-returning ill,...