I thirst, but not as once I did, The vain delights of earth to shar… Thy wounds, Emmanuel, all forbid That I should seek my pleasures t… It was the sight of Thy dear cros…

Praise in old time the sage Prome… Who stole ethereal radiance from t… But greater he, whose bold inventi… To emulate the fiery bolts of Jov…

With seeds and birdlime, from the… Eumelus gather’d free, though scan… No lordly patron’s hand he deign’d… Nor luxury knew, save liberty, nor… Thrice thirty years he lived, and…

Boy! I detest all Persian fopperi… Fillet-bound garlands are to me di… Task not thyself with any search,… Where latest roses linger. Bring me alone (for thou wilt find…

A Peasant to his lord yearly cour… Presenting pippins of so rich a so… That he, displeased to have a part… Removed the tree, that all might b… The tree, too old to travel, thoug…

Cowper had sinned with some excuse… If, bound in rhyming tethers, He had committed this abuse Of changing ewes for wethers; But, male for female is a trope,

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…

That thou mayst injure no man, dov… And serpent-like, that none may in…

Tears flow, and cease not, where t… Till all who know him follow to th… Tears therefore fall where Cheste… Him wife, friends, brothers, child… And justly—few shall ever him tran…

I sing the Sofa. I who lately san… Truth, Hope, and Charity, and tou… The solemn chords, and with a trem… Escaped with pain from that advent… Now seek repose upon an humbler th…

Here, free from riot’s hated noise… Be mine, ye calmer, purer joys, A book or friend bestows; Far from the storms that shake the… Contentment’s gale shall fan my se…

Come, peace of mind, delightful gu… Return and make thy downy nest Once more in this sad heart: Nor riches I, nor power pursue, Nor hold forbidden joys in view,

Fortune! I thank thee: gentle god… Not that my muse, though bashful,… She would have thank’€™d thee rath… A treasure in her way; for neither… Of early breakfast, to dispel the…

The lover, in melodious verses, His singular distress rehearses; Still closing with a rueful cry, ‘Was ever such a wretch as I!’ Yes! thousands have endured before

Here lies one who never drew Blood himself, yet many slew; Gave the gun its aim, and figure Made in field, yet ne’er pulled tr… Armed men have gladly made