Home, thou return'st from Thames, whose naiads long Have seen thee ling'ring with a fond delay 'Mid those soft friends, whose hearts, some future day, Shall melt, perhaps, to hear thy tragic song....
In the downhill of life, when I find I'm declining, May my lot no less fortunate be Than a snug elbow-chair can afford for reclining, And a cot that o'erlooks the wide sea;...
As once, if not with light regard, I read aright that gifted bard, (Him whose school above the rest His loveliest Elfin Queen has blest,) One, only one, unrival'd fair, Might hope the magic girdle wear,...
If aught of oaten stop or pastoral song May hope, chaste Eve, to soothe thy modest ear, Like thy own solemn springs, Thy springs, and dying gales, O nymph reserved, while now the bright-haired sun...
Who shall awake the Spartan fife, And call in solemn sounds to life The youths, whose locks divinely spreading, Like vernal hyacinths in sullen hue,...
O thou, by Nature taught To breathe her genuine thought In numbers warmly pure, and sweetly strong; Who first on mountains wild, In Fancy, loveliest child,...
How sleep the brave, who sink to rest, By all their country's wishes blest! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod...
When Music, heavenly maid, was young, While yet in early Greece she sung, The Passions oft, to hear her shell, Thronged around her magic cell, Exulting, trembling, raging, fainting,...