Round Thurlow’s head in early you… And in his sportive days, Fair science poured the light of t… And genius shed his rays. See! with united wonder, cried

Art thou some individual of a kind Long-lived by nature as the rook o… Heap treasure, then, for if thy ne… Thou hast excuse, and scarce canst… But man thou seem’st, clear theref…

The Lord receives his highest pra… From humble minds and hearts since… While all the loud professor says Offends the righteous Judge’s ear… To walk as children of the day,

What thousands never knew the road… What thousands hate it when ’tis k… None but the chosen tribes of God Will seek or choose it for their o… A thousand ways in ruin end,

Dear Anna,—Between friend and fri… Prose answers every common end; Serves, in a plain and homely way, To express the occurrence of the d… Our health, the weather, and the n…

See where the Thames, the purest… That wavers to the noon-day beam, Divides the vale below; While like a vein of liquid ore His waves enrich the happy shore,

’Twas a long journey lay before us… When I and honest Heliodorus, Who far in point of rhetoric Surpasses every living Greek, Each leaving our respective home

Full thirty frosts since thou wert… Have chilled the withered grove, Thou wretch! and hast thou lived s… Nor yet forgot to love? Ye sages! spite of your pretences

Go—thou art all unfit to share The pleasures of this place With such as its old tenants are, Creatures of gentler race. The squirrel here his hoard provid…

Hence, my epistle—skim the Deep—f… Yon smooth expanse to the Teutoni… Haste—lest a friend should grieve… And the Gods grant that nothing t… I will myself invoke the King who…

Breathe from the gentle south, O… And cheer me from the north; Blow on the treasures of thy word, And call the spices forth! I wish, Thou knowest, to be resig…

Come, ponder well, for ’tis no jes… To laugh it would be wrong; The troubles of a worthy priest The burden of my song. This priest he merry is and blithe

Here lies, whom hound did ne’€™er… Nor swiftewd greyhound follow, Whose foot ne’€™er tainted morning… Nor ear heard huntsman’€™s hallo’€… Old Tiney, surliest of his kind,

Why weeps the muse for England? W… In England’s case to move the mus… From side to side of her delightfu… Is she not clothed with a perpetua… Can Nature add a charm, or Art co…

Naples, too credulous, ah! boast n… The sweet-voiced Siren buried on… That, when Parthenope deceas’d, s… Her sacred dust to a Chalcidic gr… For still she lives, but has excha…