"Come, come," said Tom's father, "at your time of life, "There's no longer excuse for thus playing the rake-- "It is time you should think, boy, of taking a wife"-- "Why, so it is, father--whose wife shall I take?"
As vanquished Erin wept beside The Boyne's ill-fated river, She saw where Discord, in the tide, Had dropt his loaded quiver. "Lie hid," she cried, "ye venomed darts, "Where mortal eye may shun you;...
"Up!" said the Spirit and ere I could pray One hasty orison, whirled me away To a Limbo, lying--I wist not where-- Above or below, in earth or air; For it glimmered o'er with a doubtful light,...
'Twas on the Red Sea coast, at morn, we met The venerable man;[1] a healthy bloom Mingled its softness with the vigorous thought That towered upon his brow; and when he spoke...
The money raised--the army ready-- Drums beating, and the Royal Neddy Valiantly braying in the van, To the old tune ""Eh, eh, Sire 'ne!"[1]-- Naught wanting, but some coup dramatic,...
Tho' soldiers are the true supports, The natural allies of Courts, Woe to the Monarch, who depends Too much on his red-coated friends; For even soldiers sometimes think--...
Novella, a young Bolognese, The daughter of a learned Law Doctor,[1] Who had with all the subtleties Of old and modern jurists stockt her, Was so exceeding fair, 'tis said,...
Farewell, Theresa! yon cloud that over Heaven's pale night-star gathering we see, Will scarce from that pure orb have past ere thy lover Swift o'er the wide wave shall wander from thee. ...
Go, then--'tis vain to hover Thus round a hope that's dead; At length my dream is over; 'Twas sweet--'twas false--'tis fled! Farewell! since naught it moves thee, Such truth as mine to see--...
Hark! the vesper hymn is stealing O'er the waters soft and clear; Nearer yet and nearer pealing, And now bursts upon the ear: Jubilate, Amen. Farther now, now farther stealing...
Oh, lost, forever lost--no more Shall Vesper light our dewy way Along the rocks of Crissa's shore, To hymn the fading fires of day; No more to Tempe's distant vale In holy musings shall we roam,...
'Twas but for a moment--and yet in that time She crowded the impressions of many an hour: Her eye had a glow, like the sun of her clime, Which waked every feeling at once into flower. ...
I've a secret to tell thee, but hush! not here,-- Oh! not where the world its vigil keeps: I'll seek, to whisper it in thine ear, Some shore where the Spirit of Silence sleeps;...
Sing to Love--for, oh, 'twas he Who won the glorious day; Strew the wreaths of victory Along the conqueror's way. Yoke the Muses to his car, Let them sing each trophy won;...
Sculptor, wouldst thou glad my soul, Grave for me an ample bowl, Worthy to shine in hall or bower, When spring-time brings the reveller's hour. Grave it with themes of chaste design,...
As late I sought the spangled bowers, To cull a wreath of matin flowers, Where many an early rose was weeping, I found the urchin Cupid sleeping, I caught the boy, a goblet's tide...
The women tell me every day That all my bloom has pas past away. "Behold," the pretty wantons cry, "Behold this mirror with a sigh; The locks upon thy brow are few,...