(Zecheriah, XIII.1) There is a fountain fill’d with bl… Drawn from Emmanuel’s veins; And sinners, plunged beneath that… Lose all their guilty stains.

Hermocratia named—save only one— Twice fifteen births I bore, and… For neither Phoebus pierced my th… Nor Dian—she my girls, or he my b… But Dian rather, when my daughter…

Dear architect of fine Chateaux i… Worthier to stand for ever, if the… Than any built of stone, or yet of… For back of royal elephant to bear… Oh for permission from the skies t…

Doomed, as I am, in solitude to w… The present moments, and regret th… Deprived of every joy I valued mo… My friend torn from me, and my mis… Call not this gloom I wear, this…

(Proverbs, VIII. 22-31) “Ere God had built the mountains, Or raised the fruitful hills; Before he fill’d the fountains That feed the running rills;

Holy Lord God! I love Thy truth, Nor dare Thy least commandment sl… Yet pierced by sin the serpent’s t… I mourn the anguish of the bite. But though the poison lurks within…

There is a bird who, by his coat And by the hoarseness of his note, Might be supposed a crow; A great frequenter of the church, Where, bishop-like, he finds a per…

Love is the Lord whom I obey, Whose will transported I perform; The centre of my rest, my stay, Love’s all in all to me, myself a… For uncreated charms I burn,

Airy del Castro was as bold a kni… As ever earned a lady’s love in fi… Many he sought, but one above the… His tender heart victoriously impr… In fairy land was born the matchle…

“Me too, perchance, in future days… The sculptured stone shall show, With Paphian myrtle or with bays Parnassian on my brow. But I, or e’er that season come,

My former hopes are fled, My terror now begins; I feel, alas! that I am dead In trespasses and sins. Ah, whither shall I fly?

In these sad hours, a prey to ceas… While feverish pulses leap in ever… When each faint breath the last sh… Of life just parting from my feebl… How wild soe’er my wandering thoug…

Oh that those lips had language!… With me but roughly since I heard… Those lips are thine– thy own swee… The same that oft in childhood sol… Voice only fails, else, how distin…

In language warm as could be breat… Thy picture speaks the original my… Not by those looks that indicate t… They only speak thee friend of all… Expression here more soothing stil…

Hatred and vengence—my eternal por… Scarce can endure delay of executi… Wait with impatient readiness to s… Soul in a moment. Damned below Judas; more abhorred…