‘Oh most delightful hour by man Experienced here below, The hour that terminates his span, His folly and his woe! ’Worlds should not bribe me back t…

Heu inimicitias quoties parit æmu… Quam raro pulchrae, pulchra placer… Sed fines ultrà solitos discordia… Cum flores ipsos bilis et ira move… Hortus ubi dulces præbet tacitosq…

Far from the world, O Lord, I fl… From strife and tumult far; From scenes where Satan wages sti… His most successful war. The calm retreat, the silent shade…

Ye sister Pow’rs who o’er the sac… Preside, and, Thou, fair mother o… Mnemosyne, and thou, who in thy gr… Immense reclined at leisure, hast… The Archives and the ord’nances o…

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

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…

Maria, could Horace have guessed What honour awaited his ode To his little volume addressed, The honour which you have bestowed… Who have traced it in characters h…

Grant me the Muse, ye gods! whose… Seeks not the mountain-top’s perni… Who can the tall Parnassian cliff… To visit oft the still Lethean la… Now her slow pinions brush the sil…

Thracian parents, at his birth, Mourn their babe with many a tear, But, with undissembled mirth, Place him breathless on his bier. Greece and Rome, with equal score…

Come, peace of mind, delightful gu… Return and make thy downy nest Once more in this sad heart: Nor riches I, nor power pursue, Nor hold forbidden joys in view,

Almighty King! whose wondrous han… Supports the weight of sea and lan… Whose grace is such a boundless st… No heart shall break that sighs fo… Thy providence supplies my food,

The beams of April, ere it goes, A worm, scarce visible, disclose; All winter long content to dwell The tenant of his native shell. The same prolific season gives

There is a bird who, by his coat And by the hoarseness of his note, Might be supposed a crow; A great frequenter of the church, Where, bishop-like, he finds a per…

The swallows in their torpid state Compose their useless wing, And bees in hives as idly wait The call of early spring. The keenest frost that binds the s…

“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,