Works

Sweet little warbler! art thou dead?
And must I hear thy notes no more?
Then will I make thy funeral bed;
Then shall the Muse thy loss deplore.

Beneath the turf in yonder bower,...

Cease, daubers! profane not the theme, I implore ye!
But leave him, O leave him alone with his glory!

* * * * *

Man's owl-eyed reason Popish Priests assert...

'Should you e'er be unwell, send directly for me;
To cure you I'll haste with all possible speed,
Prescribe and find medicine without any fee.'
Oh! Doctor! your offer's most generous indeed;...

Still, still his bell-like voice rings through my head;
Yet not one bright thought cheers my mental view;
O! would that I were deaf, asleep, or dead!
Ye marble statues! how I envy you!
...

Words upon words impetuous rush along,
And tread each other's brains out as they throng.

* * * * *

'Admire my wife! did ever mortal eyes'...

That sermon, reverend Sir, which you have bought,
To save your idle brain the toil of thought,
You read in such a dull, lethargic tone,
It seems almost as stupid as your own.
...

Thou able, boaster! Virgil to translate!
Can'st thou, then, be so vain, so shallow-pated?
To a far higher intellectual state,
Coxcomb! thou must, thyself, be first translated.

* * * * *...

May European Liberty
In Moscow's flames her torch relume!
And Gallic Tyranny
In Moscow's ruins find a tomb!

* * * * *

Locke says the soul may slumber;...

Too long within the House has darkness dwelt,
Egyptian darkness, by the nation felt;
Therefore, though demagogues, whose deeds are ill,
For blind debate might love that darkness still,...

Why, when I praise you, Ma'am, why tell me flat,
All flattery you despise?
Self-love, the greatest flatterer, tells you that,
And I am sure he lies.

* * * * *
...

By faith alone, you say, not works,
Man must obtain salvation;
If you are saved, the doctrine needs
No better confirmation.

* * * * *

My Lady Sceptical, for want of proof,...

Bury, for practice bold and skill
Deserves to be of note;
He cures by means that well might kill,
He cuts his patient's throat!

* * * * *
...

Ye! who this hallow'd ground with reverence tread,
Where sleep in honour'd urns the illustrious dead,
To trace the achievements of the Sons of Fame,
And pay just worship to each godlike name;...

Crippled his limbs, and sightless are his eyes;
I view the youth, and feel compassion rise.
He sings! how sweet the notes! in pleased amaze
I listen, listen, and admiring gaze....

Your book I've read: I would that I had not!
For what instruction, pleasure, have I got?
Amid that artful labyrinth of doubt
Long, long I wander'd, striving to get out;...

Thou Cherub fair! in whose blue, sparkling eye
New joys, anticipated, ever play;
Celestial Hope! with whose all-potent sway
The moral elements of life comply;
At thy melodious voice their jarrings cease,...

I felt thee, Horror! rush upon my soul,
Thy hideous band my frighted fancy saw;
Spare me, O spare me! cease thy dire controul,
And let my trembling hand the vision draw.
...

Whence the shouts of public joy,
Whence the galaxies of light,
That strike the deafen'd ear?
That charm the dazzled sight?
While Night, arrested in her highest way,...

Thanks for thy song, sweet Bird! thanks for thy song!
O! 'twas delightful; how have I been lost
As in a blissful dream! how has my soul
Been wafted in a sea of melody!...