Ye Bards in all your thousand dens, Great souls with fewer pence than pens, Sublime adorers of Apollo, With folios full, and purses hollow; Whose very souls with rapture glisten,...
She sat in beauty, like some form of nymph Or na'ad, on the mossy, purpled bank Of her wild woodland stream, that at her feet Linger'd, and play'd, and dimpled, as in love....
When first the infant bird attempts to fly, And cautious spreads its pinions to the sky, Each happy breeze the timid trav'ller cheers, Assists its efforts, and allays its fears;...
Genius of England! wherefore to the earth Is thy plumed helm, thy peerless sceptre cast? Thy courts of late with minstrelsy and mirth Rang jubilant, and dazzling pageants past;...
Bring the sad cypress wreath to grace the tomb, Where rests the liberal friend of human kind, Around its base let deathless flow'rets bloom, Wet with the off'rings of the grateful mind. ...
Madam! when sorrowing o'er the virtuous dead, The gentlest solace of the tears we shed, Is, to surviving excellence to turn, And honour there those merits that we mourn. ...
Oh! ye, who pine, in London smoke immured, With spirits wearied, and with pains uncured, With all the catalogue of city evils, Colds, asthmas, rheumatism, coughs, blue devils!...
Sons of Renown! ye heirs of matchless fame, Whose Sires in Glory's path victorious fell; Adding new honors to the British name, That future ages shall with transport tell. ...
Ill-fated hour! oft as thy annual reign Leads on th' autumnal tide, my pinion'd joys Fade with the glories of the fading year; "Remembrance wakes, with all her busy train,"...
Ill-Fated hour! oft as thy annual reign Leads on th'autumnal tide, my pinion'd joys Fade with the glories of the fading year; "Remembrance 'wakes with all her busy train,"...
Love!--what is love? a mere machine, a spring For freaks fantastic, a convenient thing, A point to which each scribbling wight most steer, Or vainly hope for food or favour here;...
Swift through the land while Fame transported flies, And shouts triumphant shake the illumin'd skies; Britannia, bending o'er her dauntless prows, With laurels thickening round her blazon'd brows,...
Beautiful Boy--thy heavenward thoughts Are pictured in thine eyes, Thou hast no taint of mortal birth, Thy communing is not of earth, Thy holy musings rise: Like incense kindled from on high,...
Sweet wreck of loveliness! alas, how soon The sad brief summer of thy joys hath fled: How sorrows Friendship for thy hapless doom, Thy beauty faded, and thy hopes all dead....
His weary warfare done, his woes forgot, Freedom! thy son, oppress'd so long, is free: He seeks the realms where tyranny is not, And those shall hail him who have died for thee!...
Friend of the lonely hour, from thy lov'd strain The magic pow'r of pleasure have I known: Awhile I lose remembrance of my pain, And seem to taste of joys that long had flown....
Bless'd be the hour that gave my LYDIA birth, The day be sacred 'mid each varying year; How oft the name recals thy spotless worth, And joys departed, still to memory dear!...
"Why, there's Peace, Jack, come damme let's push round the grog, And awhile altogether in good humor jog, For they say we shall soon go ashore; Where the anchor of friendship may drift or be lost,...
Tell me, chaste spirit! in yon orb of light, Which seems to wearied souls an ark of rest, So calm, so peaceful, so divinely bright-- Solace of broken hearts, the mansion of the bless'd! ...