JUST let the Owl of Evil howl; To mourners of each rank and stati… Come, troll the Golden Bowl! And quaff me with a deep potation. Each sparkling droplet to the soul

HER harp she takes, from string t… Her little snowy fingers, glancing… Into Night’s ear a wild spell fli… And all the while my heart is danc… Why thus, fond heart, thus dancest…

THE hopes that allured me To cope with the worst, At length have secured me The tortures accurst, Of fever and grief,

THEY cry, ‘How light the heart a… From which proceed such strains of gladness!’ They can’t discern the pangs that… And seek to drive the bard to madn…

I SAW but once that lovely one, Nor need I see her twice to love; She broke upon me like the dawn, And o’er my soul her magic wove— Yea, forced the lion stern to own

SHE is not fashioned to command, Nor once, for grace, in her is sho… A form that peers the lily-wand— An air the lily’s self might own; Not such her vaunt, tho’ such ench…

‘You wont!’ the Rose’s accents ri… ‘I will!’ the Golden Bee’s are ri… And tho’ the winds, to aid her, sp… Soon with the breeze-tost bloom he… swinging.

Misfortune is a darling, ever Most faithful to the minstrel race… Let low-bred wretches shun them, n… Yet acted she a part so base. True, oft by her the bard discover…

OH, what is Life? A magic nigh… In which we still to phantoms yiel… And what is Death, if not the lig… By which the real truth’s reveal’d…

MEG MILLER skipt over to Hort… And sang as she went like the lark… ‘A pair of bright eyes hath Tim M… Yet not his the blink of Kit Clar… ’Bob Harkas hath hair crisp and c…

ALAS! the woe the high of heart, Seem pre-ordained to undergo, While proud ambition hides the sma… And smiles delude the world below. Their anguish, like a Samson blin…

I LIKE the darling critics—like? O, how upon their work I linger, When they their weapons use to str… Not me, but some less happy singer… The treasure of their venom-bags

I NEVER said my verse you’d moc… Nor how you’d giggled at my gramma… You, on whom Fame her door has lo… I little mark’d your empty clamour… I merely said that when you’d call…

“I JEALOUS? Pooh!—Doth not… Pursue his vessel o’er the billows… No, jealous, no!—From whence thos… —'Tis but the wind among the willo… “Ha, jealous, ha!—Did darling spe…

LITTLE Anna, cruel elf, Spite of all my reason, She, she puts me from myself, In and out of season; Ah, the imp! ah, the shrimp!