Ruth She stood breast-high amid the cor… Clasp’d by the golden light of mor… Like the sweetheart of the sun, Who many a glowing kiss had won.

The swallow with summer Will wing o’er the seas, The wind that I sigh to Will visit thy trees. The ship that it hastens

We watch’d her breathing thro’ the… Her breathing soft and low, As in her breast the wave of life Kept heaving to and fro. But when the morn came dim and sad

The world is with me, and its many… Its woes—its wants—the anxious hop… That wait on all terrestrial affai… The shades of former and of future… Forboding fancies and prophetic te…

‘By the North Pole, I do challen… From 'Love’s Labour’s Lost.’ Paery, my man! has thy brave leg Yet struck its foot against the pe… On which the world is spun?

No sun - no moon! No morn– no noon – No dawn– no dusk– no proper time o… No warmth, no cheerfulness, no hea… No comfortable feel in any member…

It was not in the Winter Our loving lot was cast; It was the Time of Roses,— We plucked them as we passed! That churlish season never frown’d

Far above the hollow Tempest, and its moan, Singeth bright Apollo In his golden zone,— Cloud doth never shade him,

One more Unfortunate, Weary of breath, Rashly importunate, Gone to her death! Take her up tenderly,

Alas, the moon should ever beam To show what man should never see!… I saw a maiden on a stream, And fair was she! I staid awhile, to see her throw

There is dew for the flow’ret And honey for the bee, And bowers for the wild bird, And love for you and me. There are tears for the many

A WANDERER, Wilson, from my n… Remote, O Rae, from godliness and… Where rolls between us the eternal… Besides some furlongs of a foreign… Beyond the broadest Scotch of Lon…

‘O breathe not his name!’ —Moore. Thou Great Unknown! I do not mean Eternity, nor Death… That vast incog!

‘On the east coast, towards Tunis, the Moors still preserve the key of their ancestors’ houses in Spain; to which country they still express the hopes of one day returning and again pla...