I just had turned the classic page. And traced that happy period over, When blest alike were youth and age, And love inspired the wisest sage, And wisdom graced the tenderest lover. ...
"The longer one lives, the more one learns," Said I, as off to sleep I went, Bemused with thinking of Tithe concerns, And reading a book by the Bishop of FERNS,[1]...
'Twas evening time, in the twilight sweet I sailed along, when--whom should I meet But a Turtle journeying o'er the sea, "On the service of his Majesty."[1]...
God preserve us!--there's nothing now safe from assault;-- Thrones toppling around, churches brought to the hammer; And accounts have just reached us that one Mr. Galt...
And doth not a meeting like this make amends, For all the long years I've been wandering away-- To see thus around me my youth's early friends, As smiling and kind as in that happy day?...
As down in the sunless retreats of the Ocean, Sweet flowers are springing no mortal can see, So, deep in my soul the still prayer of devotion, Unheard by the world, rises silent to Thee,...
Bright be thy dreams--may all thy weeping Turn into smiles while thou art sleeping. May those by death or seas removed, The friends, who in thy springtime knew thee, All thou hast ever prized or loved,...
Come, ye disconsolate, where'er you languish, Come, at God's altar fervently kneel; Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish-- Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal. ...
One night the nymph called country dance-- (Whom folks, of late, have used so ill, Preferring a coquette from France, That mincing thing, Mamselle quadrille)--
"She has beauty, but still you must keep your heart cool; "She has wit, but you mustn't be caught, so;" Thus Reason advises, but Reason's a fool, And 'tis not the first time I have thought so, Dear Fanny....
Dear Harp of my Country! in darkness I found thee, The cold chain of silence had hung o'er thee long,[1] When proudly, my own Island Harp, I unbound thee, And gave all thy chords to light, freedom, and song!...
By the Feal's wave benighted, No star in the skies, To thy door by Love lighted, I first saw those eyes. Some voice whispered o'er me, As the threshold I crost,...
Of various scraps and fragments built, Borrowed alike from fools and wits, Dick's mind was like a patchwork quilt, Made up of new, old, motley bits-- Where, if the Co. called in their shares,...
'Twas a new feeling--something more Than we had dared to own before. Which then we hid not; We saw it in each other's eye, And wished, in every half-breathed sigh, To speak, but did not. ...