Silent I sat, dejected, and alone… Making in thought the public woes… When, first, arose the image in my… Of England’s sufferings by that s… How death, his fun’ral torch and s…

Winter has a joy for me, While the Saviour’s charms I read… Lowly, meek, from blemish free, In the snowdrop’s pensive head. Spring returns, and brings along

Mercator, vigiles oculos ut faller… Nomine sub ficto trans mare mittit… Lenè sonat liquidumque meis Euph… Sed solam exoptant te, mea vota,… Ad speculum ornabat nitidos Euphe…

Of all the gifts Thine hand besto… Thou Giver of all good! Not heaven itself a richer knows Than my Redeemer’s blood. Faith too, the blood-receiving gra…

Sin has undone our wretched race; But Jesus has restored, And brought the sinner face to fac… With his forgiving Lord. This we repeat from year to year

The billows swell, the winds are h… Clouds overcast my wintry sky; Out of the depths to Thee I call,… My fears are great, my strength is… O Lord, the pilot’s part perform,

My lids with grief were tumid yet, And still my sullied cheek was wet With briny dews profusely shed For venerable Winton dead, When Fame, whose tales of saddest…

Where hast thou floated, in what s… Thy pastime? When wast thou an eg… Lost in the immensity of ocean’s w… Roar as they might, the overbearin… That rocked the deep, thy cradle,…

To those who love the Lord I spea… Is my Beloved near? The Bridegroom of my soul I seek, Oh! when will He appear? Though once a man of grief and sha…

(John, XXI.16) Hark my soul! it is the Lord; ’Tis Thy Saviour, hear His word; Jesus speaks and speaks to thee, “Say poor sinner, lovst thou me?

The winter night now well nigh wor… The wakeful cock proclaimed approa… When Simulus, poor tenant of a fa… Of narrowest limits, heard the shr… Yawned, stretched his limbs, and a…

Mycilla dyes her locks, ’tis said: But ’tis a foul aspersion; She buys them black; they therefor… No subsequent immersion.

The nymph must lose her female fri… If more admired than she, - But where will fierce contention e… If flowers can disagree? Within the garden’s peaceful scene

(Isaiah, IX. 15-20) Hear what God the Lord hath spoke… “O my people, faint and few, Comfortless, afflicted, broken, Fair abodes I build for you.

My rose, Gravina, blooms anew; And steeped not now in rain, But in Castalian streams by you, Will never fade again.