The lapse of time and rivers is the same, Both speed their journey with a restless stream; The silent pace, with which they steal away, No wealth can bribe, no prayers persuade to stay;...
A raven, while with glossy breast Her new-laid eggs she fondly press'd, And, on her wicker-work high mounted, Her chickens prematurely counted (A fault philosophers might blame,...
Madam,'A stranger's purpose in these lays Is to congratulate, and not to praise. To give the creature the Creator's due Were sin in me, and an offence to you. From man to man, or e'en to woman paid,...
Dear Joseph,--five and twenty years ago-- Alas, how time escapes!--'tis even so-- With frequent intercourse, and always sweet And always friendly, we were wont to cheat A tedious hour--and now we never meet....
'Tis not that I design to rob Thee of thy birthright, gentle Bob, For thou art born sole heir, and single, Of dear Mat Prior's easy jingle; Not that I mean, while thus I knit...
Here lies one who never drew Blood himself, yet many slew; Gave the gun its aim, and figure Made in field, yet ne'er pull'd trigger. Armed men have gladly made Him their guide, and him obey'd;...
I ransack'd for a theme of song, Much ancient chronicle, and long; I read of bright embattled fields, Of trophied helmets, spears, and shields, Of chiefs, whose single arm could boast...
Say, ye apostate and profane, Wretches, who blush not to disdain Allegiance to your God,' Did e'er your idly wasted love Of virtue for her sake remove And lift you from the crowd?
Sweet stream that winds through yonder glade, Apt emblem of a virtuous maid' Silent and chaste she steals along, Far from the world's gay busy throng; With gentle yet prevailing force,...
Another Leonora[1] once inspir'd Tasso, with fatal love to frenzy fir'd, But how much happier, liv'd he now, were he, Pierced with whatever pangs for love of Thee!...
Dear Anna,'Between friend and friend Prose answers every common end; Serves, in a plain and homely way, To express the occurrence of the day; Our health, the weather, and the news;...
Where Humber pours his rich commercial stream There dwelt a wretch, who breathed but to blaspheme; In subterraneous caves his life he led, Black as the mine in which he wrought for bread....
She came'she is gone'we have met' And meet perhaps never again; The sun of that moment is set, And seems to have risen in vain. Catharina has fled like a dream (So vanishes pleasure, alas!)'...