Fill the bumper fair! Every drop we sprinkle O’er the brow of Care Smooths away a wrinkle. Wit’s electric flame

Oh, where’s the slave so lowly, Condemn’d to chains unholy, Who, could he burst His bonds at first, Would pine beneath them slowly?

The Ghost of Miltiades came at ni… And he stood by the bed of the Be… And he said, in a voice, that thri… “If ever the sound of Marathon’s… Hath fir’d they blood or flush’d t…

Erin! the tear and the smile in th… Blend like the rainbow that hangs… Shining through sorrow’s stream, Saddening through pleasure’s beam, Thy suns with doubtful gleam,

She sung of Love, while o’er her… The rosy rays of evening fell, As if to feed with their soft fire The soul within that trembling she… The same rich light hung o’er her…

We may roam through this world, li… Who but sips of a sweet, and then… And, when pleasure begins to grow… We may order our wings and be off… But if hearts that feel, and eyes…

Remember thee! yes, while there’s… It shall never forget thee, all lo… More dear in thy sorrow, thy gloom… Than the rest of the world in thei… Wert thou all that I wish thee, g…

I’ve a secret to tell thee, but hu… Oh! not where the world its vigil… I’ll seek, to whisper it in thine… Some shore where the Spirit of Si… Where Summer’s wave unmurmuring d…

Come, rest in this bosom, my own s… Though the herd have fled from the… Here still is the smile, that no c… And a heart and a hand all thy own… Oh! what was love made for, if 'ti…

Of all the fair months, that round… In light—link’d dance their circle… Sweet May, shine thou for me; For still, when thy earliest beams… That youth, who beneath the blue l…

Oh, ye Dead! oh, ye Dead! whom we… From your cold gleaming eyes, thou… Why leave you thus your graves, In far off fields and waves, Where the worm and the sea—bird on…

“What! still those two infernal qu… That with our meals our slumbers m… That spoil our tempers and digesti… Eternal Corn and Catholics! Gods! were there ever two such bor…

Sing, sweet Harp, oh sing to me Some song of ancient days, Whose sounds, in this sad memory, Long—buried dreams shall raise; — Some lay that tells of vanish’d fa…

Oh! blame not the bard, if he fly… Where Pleasure lies, carelessly s… He was born for much more, and in… His soul might have burn’d with a… The string, that now languishes lo…

'Tis gone, and for ever, the light… Like Heaven’s first dawn o’er the… When Man, from the slumber of age… Look’d upward, and bless’d the pur… 'Tis gone, and the gleams it has l…