Strahan, Tonson, Lintot of the ti… Patron and publisher of rhymes, For thee the bard up Pindus climb… My Murray. To thee, with hope and terror dumb…

The antique Persians taught three… To draw the bow, to ride, and spea… This was the mode of Cyrus, best… A mode adopted since by modern you… Bows have they, generally with two…

Ill-fated Heart! And can it be, That thou should’st thus be rent i… Have years of care for thine and t… Alike been all employ’d in vain? Yet precious seems each shatter’d…

‘Tis time the heart should be unmo… Since others it hath ceased to mov… Yet, though I cannot be beloved, Still let me love! My days are in the yellow leaf;

Must thou go, my glorious Chief, Sever’d from thy faithful few? Who can tell thy warrior’s grief, Maddening o’er that long adieu? Woman’s love, and friendship’s zea…

‘There is a tide in the affairs of… Which,—taken at the flood,’—you kn… And most of us have found it now a… At least we think so, though but f… The moment, till too late to come…

The spell is broke; the charm is f… Thus is it with life’s fitful feve… We madly smile when we should groa… Delirium is our best deceiver. Each lucid interval of thought

It is the hour when from the bough… The nightingale’s high note is hea… It is the hour—when lover’s vows Seem sweet in every whisper’d word… And gentle winds and waters near,

There is a tear for all that die, A mourner o’er the humblest grave; But nations swell the funeral cry, And Triumph weeps above the brave… For them is Sorrow’s purest sigh

If from great nature’s or our own… Of thought we could but snatch a c… Perhaps mankind might find the pat… But then 'twould spoil much good p… One system eats another up, and th…