Oh, cast every care to the wind, And dry, best beloved, the tear! Secure, that thou ever shalt find, The friend of thy bosom sincere. Still friendship shall live in the breast of the brave,...
High on Imaus' solitary van, Which overlooked the kingdoms of the world, With stature more majestic, his stern brow In the clear light, the thunder at his feet;...
Old soldier! old soldier! the beams of the day, That shone on thy sabre, have long passed away, And thy sun is gone down, and thy few hairs are gray, Old soldier! ...
Frown ever opposite, the angel cried, Who, with an earthquake's might and giant hand, Severed these riven rocks, and bade them stand Severed for ever! The vast ocean-tide,...
Sweet bard, whose tones great Milton might approve, And Shakspeare, from high Fancy's sphere, Turning to the sound his ear, Bend down a look of sympathy and love; Oh, swell the lyre again,...
'Twas when, O meekest eve! thy shadows dim Were slowly stealing round, With more impassioned sound Divine Cecilia sang her vesper hymn, And swelled the solemn chord In hallelujahs to thy name, O Lord!...
In this wise the Duke of Gloucester took upon himself the order and governance of the young King, whom, with much honour and humble reverence, he conveyed towards London. But the tidings of this matter came hastily to the Queen...
I need not perhaps inform the reader, that I had before written a Canto on the subject of this poem; but I was dissatisfied with the metre, and felt the necessity of some connecting idea that might give it a degree of unity and...
The swallows, at the close of day, When autumn shone with fainter ray, Around the chimney circling flew, Ere yet they bade a long adieu, To climes where soon the winter drear...
Go, then, and join the murmuring city's throng! Me thou dost leave to solitude and tears; To busy phantasies, and boding fears, Lest ill betide thee; but 'twill not be long...
Fair inmate of these ivied walls, beneath Whose silent cloisters Ella sleeps in death, Let loftier bards, in rich and glowing lays, Thy gentleness, thy grace, thy virtue praise!...
Oh thou, that prattling on thy pebbled way Through my paternal vale dost stray, Working thy shallow passage to the sea! Oh, stream, thou speedest on The same as many seasons gone; But not, alas, to me...
Fair Moon, that at the chilly day's decline Of sharp December through my cottage pane Dost lovely look, smiling, though in thy wane! In thought, to scenes, serene and still as thine,...
These walls were built by men who did a deed Of blood: terrific conscience, day by day, Followed, where'er their shadow seemed to stay, And still in thought they saw their victim bleed,...
When first the fane, that, white, on Kingswood-Pen, Arrests, far off, the pausing stranger's ken, Echoed the hymn of praise, and on that day, Which seemed to shine with more auspicious ray,...