I Saw old Autumn in the misty mor… Stand shadowless like Silence, li… To silence, for no lonely bird wou… Into his hollow ear from woods for… Nor lowly hedge nor solitary thorn…

O’er hill, and dale, and distant s… Through all the miles that stretch… My thought must fly to rest on the… And would, though worlds should in… Nay, thou art now so dear, methink…

By ev’ry sweet tradition of true h… Graven by Time, in love with his… By all old martyrdoms and antique… Wherein Love died to be alive the… Yea, by the sad impression on the…

It is not death, that sometime in… This eloquent breath shall take it… That sometime these bright stars,… In sunlight to the sun, shall set… That this warm conscious flesh sha…

Young ardent soul, graced with fai… Spring warmth of heart, and ferven… And still a large late love of all… Spite of the world’s cold practice… For all these gifts, I know not,…

Ah, sweet, thou little knowest how I wake and passionate watches keep… And yet while I address thee now, Methinks thou smilest in thy sleep… ’Tis sweet enough to make me weep,

I Remember, I Remember I remember, I remember The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn;

Love, dearest Lady, such as I wou… Lives not within the humor of the… Not being but an outward phantasy, That skims the surface of a tinted… Else it would wane with beauty, an…

Young Ben he was a nice young man… A carpenter by trade; And he fell in love with Sally Br… That was a lady’s maid. But as they fetch’d a walk one day…

(The Argument: Lycus, detained by Circe in her magical dominion, is beloved by a Water Nymph, who, desiring to render him immortal, has recourse to the Sorceress. Circe gives her an inc...

The Autumn is old, The sere leaves are flying;— He hath gather’d up gold, And now he is dying;— Old Age, begin sighing!

Author of The Cook’s Oracle, Observations… and The Pleasure of Making a Will. ‘I rule the roast, as Milton says…

I had a gig-horse, and I called h… Because on Sundays for a little j… He was so fast and showy, quite a… Although he sometimes kicked and s… I had a chaise, and christened it…

Oh, ’tis a touching thing, to make… A tender infant with its curtain’d… Breathing as it would neither live… With that unchanging countenance o… As if its silent dream, serene and…