The coffin [1] as I past across the lane Came sudden on my view. It was not here, A sight of every day, as in the streets Of the great city, and we paus'd and ask'd Who to the grave was going. It was one,...
Here Stranger rest thee! from the neighbouring towers Of Oxford, haply thou hast forced thy bark Up this strong stream, whose broken waters here Send pleasant murmurs to the listening sense:...
Art thou a Patriot Traveller? on this field Did FALKLAND fall the blameless and the brave Beneath a Tyrant's banners: dost thou boast Of loyal ardor? HAMBDEN perish'd here,...
Enter this cavern Stranger! the ascent Is long and steep and toilsome; here awhile Thou mayest repose thee, from the noontide heat O'ercanopied by this arch'd rock that strikes...
For thirty years secluded from mankind, Here Marten linger'd. Often have these walls Echoed his footsteps, as with even tread He paced around his prison: not to him Did Nature's fair varieties exist;...
This mound in some remote and dateless day Rear'd o'er a Chieftain of the Age [1] of Hills, May here detain thee Traveller! from thy road Not idly lingering. In his narrow house...
This is the place where William's kingly power Did from their poor and peaceful homes expel, Unfriended, desolate, and shelterless, The habitants of all the fertile track...
Stranger! awhile upon this mossy bank Recline thee. If the Sun rides high, the breeze, That loves to ripple o'er the rivulet, Will play around thy brow, and the cool sound...
STRANGER! the MAN OF NATURE lies not here: Enshrin'd far distant by his [1] rival's side His relics rest, there by the giddy throng With blind idolatry alike revered! Wiselier directed have thy pilgrim feet...
Margaret! my Cousin!--nay, you must not smile; I love the homely and familiar phrase; And I will call thee Cousin Margaret, However quaint amid the measured line The good old term appears. Oh! it looks ill...
And they have drown'd thee then at last! poor Phillis! The burthen of old age was heavy on thee. And yet thou should'st have lived! what tho' thine eye Was dim, and watch'd no more with eager joy...
What! and not one to heave the pious sigh! Not one whose sorrow-swoln and aching eye For social scenes, for life's endearments fled, Shall drop a tear and dwell upon the dead!...
Orleans was hush'd in sleep. Stretch'd on her couch The delegated Maiden lay: with toil Exhausted and sore anguish, soon she closed Her heavy eye-lids; not reposing then, For busy Phantasy, in other scenes...