Translation of a letter from a ten… My very good landlady, Mistress V… (For the tears that o’erwhelm me… I know that I promis’d you hogs t… (But who knows his destiny? Certa…

Believe me, dear patrons, I have… Without any compass, or planet or… My dear native village I scarcely… So I’ll hie to my hive like the t… Hail home! sacred home! to my soul…

The legislators pass along A solemn, self-important throng! Just raised from the common mass, They feel themselves another class… —But let them in the sunshine play

In long gone years a fox and crane Were bound in friendship’s golden… Whene’er they met, the fox would b… And madame Crane would curtsie lo… —My lovely Crane how do you do?

Master Timmy brisk and airy Blythe as Oberon the fairy On thy head thy cousin wishes Thousand and ten thousand blisses. Never may thy wicket ball

’Twas the night before Christmas,… Not a creature was stirring, not e… The stockings were hung by the chi… In hopes that St. Nicholas soon w… The children were nestled all snug…

BEYOND where billows roll or te… Is gone the gentlest of the gentle… —Her brittle bark on life’s wild o… Unequal to the conflict soon was l… Severe her sufferings! much, alas,…

Of RISPAH. (who had been the co… From morn to eve from eve to rosy… On this bleak rock I’ll lay me al… Here will I stay, tho’ tempests f… Fierce lightnings glare, or earthq…

On this thy natal day permit a fri… A brother - with thy joys his own… In all gladness he would wish to s… As willing in thy griefs a part to… Meekly attend the ways of higher h…

Her little bark on Life’s wide Oc… In the unequal struggle soon was l… Severe its conflict! Much alas it… Then sunk beneath the storm and ro… But when th’ Archangels clarion s…

An elegy on the death of MONT… The sweetest, gentlest, of the you… Here lies his clay cold upon the s… He scarce had started on life’s va… For dreary death arrested his care…

E v’ry grace in her combine, L ove and truth and friendship joi… I n one source without reserve, Z ealous all her friends to serve, A nd diffuse true harmony.

To my little niece Sally Livingst… Hasty pilgrim stop thy pace Turn a moment to this place Read what pity hath erected To a songster she respected.

A gentle spirit now above Once animated what lies here Till heav’n announc’d in tenderest… “Ascend Immortal to yon sphere.” The lambkin at the great behest

HORACE. While I was pleasing to your arms… Nor any youth, of happier charms, Thy snowy bosom blissful prest, Not Portia’s like me was blest.