She comes, she comes the burden of the deeps! Beneath her wails the universal sea! With clanking chains and a new god, she sweeps, And with a thousand thunders, unto thee!...
Play on thy mother's bosom, babe, for in that holy isle The error cannot find thee yet, the grieving, nor the guile; Held in thy mother's arms above life's dark and troubled wave,...
The dead has risen here, to live through endless ages; This I with firmness trust and know. I was first led to guess it by the sages, The knaves convince me that 'tis really so.
Nature in charms is exhaustless, in beauty ever reviving; And, like Nature, fair art is inexhaustible too. Hail, thou honored old man! for both in thy heart thou preservest...
Once wisdom dwelt in tomes of ponderous size, While friendship from a pocketbook would talk; But now that knowledge in small compass lies, And floats in almanacs, as light as cork,...
Sweet friend, the world, like some fair infant blessed, Radiant with sportive grace, around thee plays; Yet 'tis not as depicted in thy breast Not as within thy soul's fair glass, its rays...