(excerpt) Hark! ’tis the twanging horn! o’er… That with its wearisome but needfu… Bestrides the wintry flood, in whi… Sees her unwrinkled face reflected…

Still, still, without ceasing, I feel it increasing, This fervour of holy desire; And often exclaim, Let me die in the flame

The shepherd touch’d his reed; swe… Essay’d, and oft essay’d to catch… And treasuring, as on her ear they… The numbers, echo’d note for note… The peevish youth, who ne’er had f…

Come, ponder well, for ’tis no jes… To laugh it would be wrong; The troubles of a worthy priest The burden of my song. This priest he merry is and blithe

Breathe from the gentle south, O… And cheer me from the north; Blow on the treasures of thy word, And call the spices forth! I wish, Thou knowest, to be resig…

Less worthy of applause, though mo… Because a novelty, the work of man… Imperial mistress of the fur-clad… Thy most magnificent and mighty fr… The wonder of the North. No fores…

I was a grovelling creature once, And basely cleaved to earth: I wanted spirit to renounce The clod that gave me birth. But God hath breathed upon a worm…

Thee, whose refulgent staff and su… Minerva’s flock longtime was wont… Although thyself an herald, famous… The last of heralds, Death, has s… He calls on all alike, nor even de…

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

A miser traversing his house, Espied, unusual there, a mouse, And thus his uninvited guest Briskly inquisitive address’d: ‘Tell me, my dear, to what cause i…

Oh how I love Thy holy Word, Thy gracious covenant, O Lord! It guides me in the peaceful way; I think upon it all the day. What are the mines of shining weal…

I slept when Venus enter’d: to my… A Cupid in her beauteous hand she… A bashful seeming boy, and thus sh… ‘Shepherd, receive my little one!… An untaught love, whom thou must t…

What portents, from what distant r… Unseen till now in ours, the aston… In ages past, old Proteus, with h… Of sea-calves, sought the mountain… But now, descending whence of late…

When the British warrior queen, Bleeding from the Roman rods, Sought, with an indignant mien, Counsel of her country’s gods, Sage beneath a spreading oak

O God, whose favorable eye, The sin-sick soul revives, Holy and heavenly is the joy Thy shining presence gives. Not such as hypocrites suppose,