Yes, Pamela, this infant tree Planted in sacred earth by thee, Shall strike its root, and pleasant grow Whilst I am mouldering dust below. This churchyard turf shall still be green,...
Oh! still, as with a seraph's voice, prolong The harmonies of that enchanting song, Till, listening, we might almost think we hear, Beyond this cloudy world, in the pure sphere...
Mortal! who, armed with holy fortitude, The path of good right onward hast pursued; May HE, to whose eternal throne on high The sufferers of the earth with anguish cry, Be thy protector! On that dreary road...
Thou camest with kind looks, when on the brink Almost of death I strove, and with mild voice Didst soothe me, bidding my poor heart rejoice, Though smitten sore: Oh, I did little think...
Poor Linley! I shall miss thee sadly, now Thou art not in the world; for few remain Who loved like thee the high and holy strain Of harmony's immortal master. Thou...
Old man, I saw thee in thy garden chair Sitting in silence 'mid the shrubs and trees Of thy small cottage-croft, whilst murmuring bees Went by, and almost touched thy temples bare,...
Monastic and time-consecrated fane! Thou hast put on thy shapely state again, Almost august as in thy early day, Ere ruthless Henry rent thy pomp away. No more the mass on holidays is sung,...
Oh, shout for Lautaro, the young and the brave! The arm of whose strength was uplifted to save, When the steeds of the strangers came rushing amain, And the ghosts of our fathers looked down on the slain! ...
By thy habitation dread, In the valley of the dead, Where no sun, nor day, nor night, Breaks the red and dusky light; By the grisly troops, that ride, Of slaughtered Spaniards, at thy side,--...
While summer airs scarce breathe along the tide, Oft pausing, up the mountain's craggy side We climb, how beautiful, how still, how clear, The scenes that stretch around! The rocks that rear...
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;...
There is a poor blind man, who, every day, In summer sunshine, or in winter's rain, Duly as tolls the bell, to the high fane Explores, with faltering footsteps, his dark way,...
Indian festival for victory, Old Warrior brought in wounded, Recognises his long-lost son, and dies, Discovery, Conclusion with the Old Warrior's funeral, and prophetic oration by the Missionary. ...