As in her ancient mistress’ lap The youthful tabby lay, They gave each other many a tap, Alike disposed to play. But strife ensues. Puss waxes war…

Praise in old time the sage Prome… Who stole ethereal radiance from t… But greater he, whose bold inventi… To emulate the fiery bolts of Jov…

I sing of a journey to Clifton, We would have perform’d if we coul… Without cart or barrow to lift on Poor Mary and me through the mud; Slee, sla, slud,

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…

Less worthy of applause, though mo… Because a novelty, the work of man… Imperial mistress of the fur-clad… Thy most magnificent and mighty fr… The wonder of the North. No fores…

The suitors sinned, but with a fai… Whom all this elegance might well… Nor can our censure on the husband… Who, for a wife so lovely, slew th…

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…

Art thou some individual of a kind Long-lived by nature as the rook o… Heap treasure, then, for if thy ne… Thou hast excuse, and scarce canst… But man thou seem’st, clear theref…

All-worshipped Gold! thou mighty… Say by what name shall I address… Our blessing, or our bane? Withou… The generous pangs of pity but dis… The human heart, that fain would f…

A needle, small as small can be, In bulk and use surpasses me, Nor is my purchase dear; For little, and almost for nought As many of my kind are bought

This is the feast of heavenly wine… And God invites to sup; The juices of the living Vine Were press’d to fill the cup. Oh! bless the Saviour, ye that ea…

O sovereign of an isle renowned For undisputed sway Wherever o’er yon gulf profound Her navies wing their way; With juster claims she builds at l…

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

The Saviour hides His face; My spirit thirsts to prove Renew’d supplies of pardoning grac… And never-fading love. The favor’d souls who know

The lover, in melodious verses, His singular distress rehearses; Still closing with a rueful cry, ‘Was ever such a wretch as I!’ Yes! thousands have endured before