To grass, or leaf, or fruit, or wa… The snail sticks close, nor fears… As if he grew there, house and all Together. Within that house secure he hides,

Honor and happiness unite To make the Christian’s name a pr… How fair the scene, how clear the… That fills the remnant of His day… A kingly character He bears,

Bewail not much, my parents! me, t… Of ruthless Ades, and sepulchred… An infant, in my fifth scarce fini… He found all sportive, innocent, a… Your young Callimachus; and if I…

To keep the lamp alive, With oil we fill the bowl; ’Tis water makes the willow thrive… And grace that feeds the soul. The Lord’s unsparing hand

While thirteen moons saw smoothly… The Nen’s barge-laden wave, All these, life’s rambling journey… Have found their home, the grave. Was man (frail always) made more f…

It is not from his form, in which… Strength join’d with beauty, digni… That man, the master of this globe… His right of empire over all that… That form, indeed, the associate o…

(Phillipians, IV.11) Fierce passions discompose the min… As tempests vex the sea, But calm, content and peace we fin… When, Lord, we turn to Thee.

A poet’s cat, sedate and grave As poet well could wish to have, Was much addicted to inquire For nooks to which she might retir… And where, secure as mouse in chin…

‘Write to Sardis,’ saith the Lord… ‘And write what He declares, He whose Spirit, and whose word, Upholds the seven stars: All thy works and ways I search,

There is a book, which we may call (Its excellence is such) Alone a library, though small; The ladies thumb it much. Words none, things numerous it con…

When Aulus, the nocturnal thief,… Of Hermes, swift-wing’d envoy of… Hermes, Arcadia’s king, the thief… Who when an infant stole Apollo’s… And whom, as arbiter and overseer

They call thee rich—I deem thee p… Since, if thou darest not use thy… But savest only for thine heirs, The treasure is not thine, but the…

Hast thou a friend? thou hast inde… A rich and large supply. Treasure to serve your every need, Well managed, till you die.

To be remembered thus is fame, And in the first degree; And did the few like her the same, The press might sleep for me. So Homer, in the memory stored

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…