#English
Say, ye apostate and profane, Wretches, who blush not to disdain Allegiance to your God,— Did e’er your idly wasted love Of virtue for her sake remove
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…
Hayley, thy tenderness fraternal s… In our first interview, delightful… To Mary and me for her dear sake… Such as it is has made my heart th… Though heedless now of new engagem…
There is a fountain filled with bl… And sinners plunged beneath that f… Lose all their guilty stains, lose… And sinners plunged beneath that f… The dying thief rejoiced to see th…
Receive, dear friend, the truths… So shalt thou live beyond the reac… Of adverse fortune’s power; Not always tempt the distant deep, Nor always timorously creep
Ye Nymphs, if e’er your eyes were… With tears o’er hapless favourites… Oh, share Maria’s grief! Her favourite, even in his cage, (What will not hunger’s cruel rage…
I wish thy lot, now bad, still wor… For when at worst, they say, thing…
The fountain in its source, No drought of summer fears; The farther it pursues its course, The nobler it appears. But shallow cisterns yield
(Revelations, III. 1-6) “Write to Sardis,” saith the Lord… “And write what He declares, He whose Spirit, and whose word, Upholds the seven stars:
Sin enslaved me many years, And led me bound and blind; Till at length a thousand fears Came swarming o’er my mind. “Where,” said I, in deep distress…
In Cnidus born, the consort I bec… Of Euphron. Aretimias was my name… His bed I shared, nor proved a ba… But bore two children at a birth,… One child I leave to solace and u…
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…
When Hagar found the bottle spent And wept o’er Ishmael, A message from the Lord was sent To guide her to a well. Should not Elijah’s cake and crus…
Oft we embrace our ills by discont… And give them bulk beyond what nat… A parent, brother, friend deceased… ‘He’s dead indeed, but he was born… Such temperate grief is suited to…
The Spirit breathes upon the word… And brings the truth to sight; Precepts and promises afford A sanctifying light. A glory gilds the sacred page,
