Sister, fie, for shame, no more, Give this ignorant babble o’er, Nor with little female pride Things above your sense deride. Why this foolish under—rating

Roi’s wife of Brunswick Oëls! Roi’s wife of Brunswick Oëls! Wot you how she came to him, While he supinely dreamt of no ill… Vow! but she is a canty Queen,

In one great man we view with odds A parallel to all the gods. Great Jove, that shook heaven wit… Could never match his princely bow… In him a Bacchus we behold:

An author who has given you all de… Furnished the tale our stage prese… Some of our earliest tears he taug… Down our young cheeks, and forced… To solitary shores whole years con…

Cowper, I thank my God that thou… Thine was the sorest malady of all… And I am sad to think that it sho… Upon the worthy head; but thou art… And thou art yet, we trust, the de…

While young John runs to greet The greater Infant’s feet, The Mother standing by, with trem… Of devout admiration, Beholds the engaging mystic play,…

‘I keep it, dear papa, within my g… ‘You do—what sum then usually, my… Is there deposited? I make no dou… Some penny pieces you are not with… 'O no, papa, they’d soil my glove,…

The month was June, the day was h… And Philip had an orange got, The fruit was fragrant, tempting,… Refreshing to the smell and sight; Not of that puny size which calls

As when a child on some long winte… Affrighted clinging to its Granda… With eager wond’ring and perturbed… Listens strange tales of fearful d… Muttered to wretch by necromantic…

WHEN maidens such as Hester die Their place ye may not well supply… Though ye among a thousand try With vain endeavour. A month or more hath she been dead…

Horatio, of ideal courage vain, Was flourishing in air his father’… And, as the fumes of valour swelle… Now thought himself this hero, and… ‘And now,’ he cried, 'I will Achi…

I HAVE had playmates, I have ha… In my days of childhood, in my joy… All, all are gone, the old familia… I have been laughing, I have been… Drinking late, sitting late, with…

Anger in its time and place May assume a kind of grace. It must have some reason in it, And not last beyond a minute. If to further lengths it go,

On a bank with roses shaded, Whose sweet scent the violets aide… Violets whose breath alone Yields but feeble smell or none, (Sweeter bed Jove ne’er repos’d o…

Time—mouldering crosses, gemmed wi… Of costliest work and Gothic trac… Point still the spot, to hallowed… Where rested on its solemn way the… That bore the bones of Edward’s E…