She issues radiant from her dressi… Like one prepared to scale an uppe… —By stirring up a lower, much I f… How deftly that oiled barber lays… That long-shanked dapper Cupid wi…

That march of the funereal Past b… How Glory sat on Bondage for its… How men, like dazzled insects, thr… Still worked their way, and bled t… We know them, as they strove and w…

How died Melissa none dares shape… A woman who is wife despotic lords Count faggot at the question, Sha… Her son, because his brows were bl… Runs barking for his bread, a fugi…

Full faith I have she holds that… To beauty, Common Sense. To see… With her fair visage an inverted s… Bloom-covered, while the underlids… Would almost wreck the faith; but…

The long cloud edged with streamin… Soars from the West; The red leaf mounts with it away, Showing the nest A blot among the branches bare:

When I would image her features, Comes up a shrouded head: I touch the outlines, shrinking; She seems of the wandering dead. But when love asks for nothing,

Pitch here the tent, while the old… By the old hedge—side we’ll halt a… It’s nigh my last above the daisie… My next leaf’ll be man’s blank pag… Yes, my old girl! and it’s no use…

A blackbird in a wicker cage, That hung and swung 'mid fruits an… Had learnt the song-charm, to assu… The drearness of its wingless hour… And ever when the song was heard,

To sit on History in an easy chai… Still rivalling the wild hordes by… Sure, this beseems a race of lagga… Unwarned by those plain letters sc… If more than hands’ and armsful be…

When the Head of Bran Was firm on British shoulders, God made a man! Cried all beholders. Steel could not resist

Rub thou thy battered lamp: nor cl… Honours from aught about thee. Li… Thy frame is as a dusty mantle hun… O grey one! pendant on a loosened… Thou art for this our life an anci…

O my lover! the night like a broad… Bears us onward, and morn, a black… How I shuddered-I knew not that… Till I looked on thy face:- then… Then I felt like a thing caught b…

I am not of those miserable males Who sniff at vice and, daring not… Do therefore hope for heaven. I t… Of all my deeds. The wind that fi… Propels; but I am helmsman. Am I…

To Thee, dear God of Mercy, both… Who straightway sound the call to… And that black spot in each embatt… Spring of the blood-stream, later… Now is it red artillery and white…