Bestow, dear Lord, upon our youth The gift of saving grace; And let the seed of sacred truth Fall in a fruitful place. Grace is a plant, where’er it grow…

Thou mayst of double ignorance boa… Who know’st not that thou nothing…

As yet a stranger to the gentle fi… That Amathusia’s smiling Queen in… Not seldom I derided Cupid’s dart… And scorn’d his claim to rule all… Go, child, I said, transfix the t…

(Exodus, XVII.15) By whom was David taught To aim the deadly blow, When he Goliath fought, And laid the Gittite low?

These verses also to thy praise th… Oh Manso! happy in that theme des… For, Gallus and Maecenas gone, th… None such besides, or whom they lo… And, if my verse may give the meed…

Night! how I love thy silent shad… My spirits they compose; The bliss of heaven my soul pervad… In spite of all my woes. While sleep instils her poppy dews

From thorny wilds a monster came, That filled my soul with fear and… The birds, forgetful of their mirt… Drooped at the sight, and fell to… When thus a sage addressed mine ea…

... Thou know’st my praise of nature m… And that my raptures are not conju… To serve occasions of poetic pomp, But genuine, and art partner of th…

Other stones the era tell, When some feeble mortal fell; I stand here to date the birth Of these hardy sons of earth. Which shall longest brave the sky,

On the green margin of the brook, Despairing Phyllida reclined, Whilst every sigh, and every look, Declared the anguish of her mind. Am I less lovely then? (she cries…

‘Me too, perchance, in future days… The sculptured stone shall show, With Paphian myrtle or with bays Parnassian on my brow. ’But I, or e’er that season come,

Sweet tenants of this grove! Who sing without design, A song of artless love, In unison with mine: These echoing shades return

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

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,

I sing the Sofa. I who lately san… Truth, Hope, and Charity, and tou… The solemn chords, and with a trem… Escaped with pain from that advent… Now seek repose upon an humbler th…