Mild arch of promise! on the evening sky Thou shinest fair with many a lovely ray Each in the other melting. Much mine eye Delights to linger on thee; for the day,...
The circumstance related in the following Ballad happened about forty years ago in a village adjacent to Bristol. A person who was present at the funeral, told me the story and the particulars of the interment, as I have versif...
What! and not one to heave the pious sigh! Not one whose sorrow-swoln and aching eye For social scenes, for life's endearments fled, Shall drop a tear and dwell upon the dead!...
Fly, son of Banquo! Fleance, fly! Leave thy guilty sire to die. O'er the heath the stripling fled, The wild storm howling round his head. Fear mightier thro' the shades of night...
Betwene the Cytee and the Chirche of Bethlehem, is the felde Floridus, that is to seyne, the feld florisched. For als moche as a fayre Mayden was blamed with wrong and sclaundred, that sche hadde don fornicacioun, for whi...
In September, 1798, a Dissenting Minister of Bristol, discovered a Sailor in the neighbourhood of that City, groaning and praying in a hovel. The circumstance that occasioned his agony of mind is detailed in the annexed Ballad,...
Glad as the weary traveller tempest-tost To reach secure at length his native coast, Who wandering long o'er distant lands has sped, The night-blast wildly howling round his head,...
Hark--how the church-bells thundering harmony Stuns the glad ear! tidings of joy have come, Good tidings of great joy! two gallant ships Met on the element,--they met, they fought...
Orleans was hush'd in sleep. Stretch'd on her couch The delegated Maiden lay: with toil Exhausted and sore anguish, soon she closed Her heavy eye-lids; not reposing then, For busy Phantasy, in other scenes...
She spake, and lo! celestial radiance beam'd Amid the air, such odors wafting now As erst came blended with the evening gale, From Eden's bowers of bliss. An angel form...
The Maiden, musing on the Warrior's words, Turn'd from the Hall of Glory. Now they reach'd A cavern, at whose mouth a Genius stood, In front a beardless youth, whose smiling eye...
Cold was the night wind, drifting fast the snows fell, Wide were the downs and shelterless and naked, When a poor Wanderer struggled on her journey Weary and way-sore. ...
The lilly cheek, the "purple light of love," The liquid lustre of the melting eye,-- Mary! of these the Poet sung, for these Did Woman triumph! with no angry frown View this degrading conquest. At that age...
And I was once like this! that glowing cheek Was mine, those pleasure-sparkling eyes, that brow Smooth as the level lake, when not a breeze Dies o'er the sleeping surface! twenty years...
"Lo I, the man who erst the Muse did ask Her deepest notes to swell the Patriot's meeds, Am now enforst a far unfitter task For cap and gown to leave my minstrel weeds,"...