The snow dissolv’d, no more is see… The fields and woods, behold! are… The changing year renews the plain… The rivers know their banks again; The sprightly nymph and naked grac…

Oft in danger, yet alive, We are come to thirty-five; Long may better years arrive, Better years than thirty-five. Could philosophers contrive

She ceas’d; then godlike Hector a… (His various plumage sporting in t… ‘That post and all the rest shall… But shall I then forsake the unfi… How would the Trojans brand great…

{On her giving the author a gold a… net-work purse of her own weaving}… Though gold and silk their charms… To make thy curious web delight, In vain the varied work would shin…

To Stella: Evening now from purple wings Sheds the grateful gifts she bring… Brilliant drops bedeck the mead, Cooling breezes shake the reed;

No more thus brooding o’er yon hea… With avarice painful vigils keep: Still unenjoy’d the present store, Still endless sighs are breathed f… O! quit the shadow, catch the priz…

When first the peasant, long incli… Forsakes his rural sports and peac… Pleas’d with the scene the smiling… He scorns the verdant meads and fl… Then dances jocund o’er the watery…

Behold, my fair, where’er we rove, What dreary prospects round us ris… The naked hill, the leafless grove… The hoary ground, the frowning ski… Nor only through the wasted plain,

The rites derived from ancient day… With thoughtless reverence we prai… The rites that taught us to combin… The joys of music and of wine, And bid the feast, and song and bo…

Bright Stella, form’d for univers… Too well you know to keep the slav… When in your eyes resistless light… Awed into love our conquer’d heart… And yield reluctant to despotic sw…

The Electrician Long hast thou borne the burden of… Thy task is ended, venerable Grey… No more shall art thy dexterous ha… To break the sleep of elemental fi…

This tributary verse receive, my f… Warm with an ardent lover’s fondes… May this returning day for ever fi… Thy form more lovely, more adorn’d… All pains, all cares, may favourin…

Written in Ridicule of Certain P… {of Thomas Warton} Published in 1… Wheresoe’er I turn my view, All is strange, yet nothing new; Endless labour all along,

Lovely courier of the sky, Whence and whither dost thou fly? Scattering, as thy pinions play, Liquid fragrance all the way: Is it business? is it love?

Thou who survey’st these walls wit… Pause at this tomb where Hanmer’s… His various worth through varied l… And learn his virtues while thou m… His force of genius burn’d in earl…