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…

See where the Thames, the purest… That wavers to the noon-day beam, Divides the vale below; While like a vein of liquid ore His waves enrich the happy shore,

Say, ye apostate and profane, Wretches, who blush not to disdain Allegiance to your God,— Did e’er your idly wasted love Of virtue for her sake remove

My name—my country—what are they t… What, whether base or proud my ped… Perhaps I far surpass’d all other… Perhaps I fell below them all—wha… Suffice it, stranger! that thou se…

A Spartan 'scaping from the fight… His mother met him in his flight, Upheld a falchion to his breast, And thus the fugitive address’d: ‘Thou canst but live to blot with…

Thou hast no lightnings, O thou J… Or I their force should know; And, if thou strike me into dust, My soul approves the blow. The heart, that values less its ea…

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…

The Saviour, what a noble flame Was kindled in his breast, When hasting to Jerusalem, He march’d before the rest. Good will to men, and zeal for Go…

To lay the soul that loves him low… Becomes the Only–wise: To hide beneath a veil of woe, The children of the skies. Man, though a worm, would yet be g…

“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,

Would my Delia know if I love, le… My last thought at night, and the… With my prayers and best wishes pr… Let her guess what I muse on, whe… I stride o’er the stubble each day…

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

Fierce passions discompose the min… As tempests vex the sea, But calm, content and peace we fin… When, Lord, we turn to Thee. In vain by reason and by rule

Did Cytherea to the skies From this pellucid lymph arise? Or was it Cytherea’s touch, When bathing here, that made it su…

Bid adieu, my sad heart, bid adieu… Thy pleasure is past, and thy sorr… See the shadows of evening how far… And a long night is coming, that n… For the sun is now set that enlive…