It was some spirit, Sheridan! tha… O’er thy young mind such wildly-va… My soul hath marked thee in her sh… Thy temples with Hymettian flowre… And sweet thy voice, as when o’er…
He too has flitted from his secret… Hope’s last and dearest child with… Has flitted from me, like the warm… That makes false promise of a plac… To the tired Pilgrim’s still beli…
THERE is one Mind, one omnipres… Omnific. His most holy name is Lo… Truth of subliming import! with th… Who feeds and saturates his consta… He from his small particular orbit…
Myrtle leaf, that ill besped Pinest in the gladsome ray, Soiled beneath the common tread Far from thy protecting spray! When the partridge o’er the sheaf
Ter. But that entrance, Selma? Sel. Can no one hear? It is a per… Ter. No one. Sel. My husband’s father told it… Poor old Sesina—angels rest his s…
We pledged our hearts, my love and… I in my arms the maiden clasping; I could not tell the reason why, But, O, I trembled like an aspen! Her father’s love she bade me gain…
Spirit who sweepest the wild harp… It is most hard, with an untrouble… Thy dark inwoven harmonies to hear… Yet, mine eye fixed on Heaven’s u… Long had I listened, free from mo…
Pale Roamer thro’ the Night! thou… Remorse that man on his death-bed… Who in the credulous hour of tende… Betrayed, then cast thee forth to… The World is pityless; the Chaste…
The butterfly the ancient Grecian… The soul’s fair emblem, and its on… But of the soul, escaped the slavi… Of mortal life!—For in this earth… Ours is the reptile’s lot, much to…
While my young cheek retains its h… And I have many friends who hold… L——! methinks, I would not often… Such melodies as thine, lest I sh… All memory of the wrongs and sore…
A Conversation Poem, April, 1798 No cloud, no relique of the sunken… Distinguishes the West, no long t… Of sullen light, no obscure trembl… Come, we will rest on this old mos…
'With Donne, whose muse on dromed… Wreathe iron pokers into true-love… Rhyme’s sturdy cripple, fancy’s ma… Wit’s forge and fire-blast, meanin…
Whom should I choose for my Judge… Who, in the work, forgets me and t… Ye who have eyes to detect, and G… Have you the heart, too, that love… What is the meed of thy Song? 'Ti…
God be with thee, gladsome Ocean! How gladly greet I thee once more… Ships and waves, and ceaseless mot… And men rejoicing on thy shore. Dissuading spake the mild physicia…
Near the lone pile with ivy oversp… Fast by the rivulet’s sleep-persua… Where 'sleeps the moonlight’ on yo… O humbly press that consecrated gr… For there does Edmund rest, the l…
