Poets attempt the noblest task the… Praising the Author of all good i… And, next, commemorating Worthies… The dead in whom that good abounde… Thee, therefore, of commercial fam…

Lady! It cannot be, but that thin… Must be my sun, such radiance they… And strike me ev’n as Phoebus him… Through torrid Libya’s sandy dese… Meantime, on that side steamy vapo…

How happy are the new–born race, Partakers of adopting grace! How pure the bliss they share! Hid from the world and all its eye… Within their heart the blessing li…

The lady thus address’d her spouse… What a mere dungeon is this house! By no means large enough; and was… Yet this dull room, and that dark… Those hangings with their worn-out…

Dear Lord! accept a sinful heart, Which of itself complains, And mourns, with much and frequent… The evil it contains. There fiery seeds of anger lurk,

(Mark, XI.17) Thy mansion is the Christian’s he… O Lord, Thy dwelling place secure… Bid the unruly throng depart, And leave the consecrated door.

How bless’d Thy creature is, O G… When with a single eye, He views the lustre of Thy Word, The dayspring from on high! Through all the storms that veil t…

My rose, Gravina, blooms anew; And steeped not now in rain, But in Castalian streams by you, Will never fade again.

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…

I place an offering at thy shrine, From taint and blemish clear, Simple and pure in its design, Of all that I hold dear. I yield thee back thy gifts again,

No strength of nature can suffice To serve the Lord aright: And what she has she misapplies, For want of clearer light. How long beneath the law I lay

I am fond of the swallow—I learn… Had I skill to improve it, a less… How seldom on earth do we see her… She dwells in the skies, she is ev… It is on the wing that she takes h…

Two neighbours furiously dispute; A field—the subject of the suit. Trivial the spot, yet such the rag… With which the combatants engage, ’Twere hard to tell who covets mos…

Hear, Lord, the song of praise an… In heaven thy dwelling-place, From infants, made the public care… And taught to seek thy face! Thanks for thy word and for thy da…

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…