#English
If John marries Mary, and Mary a… ’Tis a very good match between Ma… Should John wed a score, oh, the… It can’t be a match:—’tis a bundle…
How quick the change from joy to w… How chequered is our lot below! Seldom we view the prospect fair, Dark clouds of sorrow, pain, and c… (Some pleasing intervals between),
Long plunged in sorrow, I resign My soul to that dear hand of thine… Without reserve or fear; That hand shall wipe my streaming… Or into smiles of glad surprise
Poor in my youth, and in life’s la… Rich to no end, I curse my natal… Who nought enjoy’d while young, de… And nought when old enjoy’d, denie…
Sauntering along the street one da… On trifles musing by the way, Up steps a free familiar wight; (I scarcely knew the man by sight.… ‘Carlos (he cried), your hand, my…
To Jesus, the crown of my hope, My soul is in haste to be gone; O bear me, ye cherubim, up, And waft me away to His throne! My Saviour, whom absent I love,
Close by the threshold of a door n… Three kittens sat; each kitten loo… I passing swift and inattentive by… At the three kittens cast a carele… Not much concerned to know what th…
When wit and genius meet their doo… In all devouring flame, They tell us of the fate of Rome, And bid us fear the same. O’er Murray’s loss the Muses wept…
You bid me write to amuse the tedi… And save from withering my poetic… Hard is the task, my friend, for v… From the free mind, not fettered d… Restless amidst unceasing tempests…
God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform; He plants His footsteps in the se… And rides upon the storm. Deep in unfathomable mines
To purify their wine some people b… A lamb into the barrel, and succee… No nostrum, planters say, is half… To make fine sugar, as a negro’s b… Now lambs and negroes both are har…
Charles—and I say it wond’ring—th… That I who once assum’d a scornfu… And scoff’d at love, am fallen in… (Full many an upright man has fall… Yet think me not thus dazzled by t…
In Scotland’s realm, where trees… Nor even shrubs abound; But where, however bleak the view Some better things are found; For husband there and wife may boa…
There’s not an echo round me, But I am glad should learn, How pure a fire has found me, The love with which I burn. For none attends with pleasure
The works of ancient bards divine, Aulus, thou scorn’st to read; And should posterity read thine, It would be strange indeed! When little more than boy in age,
