Mary! I want a lyre with other st… Such aid from heaven as some have… An eloquence scarce given to morta… And undebased by praise of meaner… That ere through age or woe I she…

Written when the news arrived. Toll for the brave! The brave that are no more! All sunk beneath the wave Fast by their native shore.

’Twas in the glad season of spring… Asleep at the dawn of the day, I dream’€™d what I cannot but sin… So pleasant it seem’d as I lay. I dream’€™d that, on ocean afloat,

Grace, triumphant in the throne, Scorns a rival, reigns alone; Come and bow beneath her sway; Cast your idol works away! Works of man, when made his plea,

A spaniel, Beau, that fares like… Well fed, and at his ease, Should wiser be than to pursue Each trifle that he sees. But you have killed a tiny bird,

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…

Farewell, false hearts! whose best… Like shallow brooks which summer s… Forgetful of the man whom once ye… Cold in his cause, and careless of… I bid you both a long and last adi…

In language warm as could be breat… Thy picture speaks the original my… Not by those looks that indicate t… They only speak thee friend of all… Expression here more soothing stil…

Another Leonora once inspir’d Tasso, with fatal love to frenzy f… But how much happier, liv’d he now… Pierced with whatever pangs for lo… Since could he hear that heavenly…

Dear Anna,—Between friend and fri… Prose answers every common end; Serves, in a plain and homely way, To express the occurrence of the d… Our health, the weather, and the n…

My song shall bless the Lord of a… My praise shall climb to His abod… Thee, Saviour, by that name I cal… The great Supreme, the mighty God… Without beginning or decline,

Happy songster, perch’d above, On the summit of the grove, Whom a dewdrop cheers to sing With the freedom of a king, From thy perch survey the fields

CHORUS OF ANGELS, Singing… To Heaven’s bright lyre let Iris… Adapt the spheres for chords, for… Let new-born gales discriminate th… Nor let old Time to measure times…

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…

Long plunged in sorrow, I resign My soul to that dear hand of thine… Without reserve or fear; That hand shall wipe my streaming… Or into smiles of glad surprise