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...
When will the grave shelter thy few gray hairs, O aged man! Thy sand is almost run, And many a year, in vain, to meet the sun, Thine eyes have rolled in darkness; want and cares...
Not that thy name, illustrious dome! recalls The pomp of chivalry in bannered halls, The blaze of beauty, and the gorgeous sights Of heralds, trophies, steeds, and crested knights;...
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,--...
What pale and bleeding youth, whilst the fell blast Howls o'er the wreck, and fainter sinks the cry Of struggling wretches ere, o'erwhelmed, they die, Yet floats upborne upon the driving mast!...
Smooth went our boat upon the summer seas, Leaving, for so it seemed, the world behind, Its sounds of mingled uproar: we, reclined Upon the sunny deck, heard but the breeze...
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,...
While slowly wanders thy sequestered stream, WAINSBECK, the mossy-scattered rocks among, In fancy's ear making a plaintive song To the dark woods above, that waving seem...
When dark November bade the leaves adieu, And the gale sung amid the sea-boy's shrouds, Methought I saw four winged forms, that flew, With garments streaming light, amid the clouds;...
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!...
Since last I saw that countenance so mild, Slow-stealing age, and a faint line of care, Had gently touched, methought, some features there; Yet looked the man as placid as a child,...
If rich designs of sumptuous art may please, Or Nature's loftier views, august and old, Stranger! behold this spreading scene; behold This amphitheatre of aged trees, That solemn wave above thee, and around...
I thought 'twas a toy of the fancy, a dream That leads with illusion the senses astray, And I sighed with delight as we stole down the stream, While the sun, as he smiled on our sail, seemed to say,...
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,...
Spirit of unwearied wing, From the Baltic's frozen main, From the Russ's bleak domain, Say, what tidings dost thou bring! Shouts, and the noise of battle! and again...
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,...