Adieu, adieu! my native shore Fades o’ver the waters blue; The night-winds sigh, the breakers… And shrieks the wild sea-mew. Yon sun that sets upon the sea

Oh! could Le Sage’s demon’s gift Be realized at my desire, This night my trembling form he’d… To place it on St. Mary’s spire. Then would, unroof’d, old Granta’…

Good plays are scarce: So Moore writes farce. The poet’s fame grows brittle— We knew before That Little’s Moore,

Hills of Annesley, bleak and barr… Where my thoughtless childhood str… How the northern tempests, warring… Howl above thy tufted shade! Now no more, the hours beguiling,

These locks, which fondly thus ent… In firmer chains our hearts confin… Than all th’ unmeaning protestatio… Which swell with nonsense love ora… Our love is fix’d, I think we’ve…

Must thou go, my glorious Chief, Sever’d from thy faithful few? Who can tell thy warrior’s grief, Maddening o’er that long adieu? Woman’s love, and friendship’s zea…

Young Oak! when I planted thee de… I hoped that thy days would be lon… That thy dark‑waving branches woul… And ivy thy trunk with its mantle… Such, such was my hope, when in in…

On Jordan’s banks the Arab’s came… On Sion’s hill the False One’s v… The Baal-adorer bows on Sinai’s s… Yet there– even there– Oh God! th… There - where thy finger scorch’d…

No specious splendour of this ston… Endears it to my memory ever; With lustre only once it shone, And blushes modest as the giver. Some, who can sneer at friendship’…

Oh, Wellington! (or 'Villainton’—… Sounds the heroic syllables both w… France could not even conquer your… But punn’d it down to this facetio… Beating or beaten she will laugh t…

Dear Doctor, I have read your pla… Which is a good one in its way, Purges the eyes, and moves the bow… And drenches handkerchiefs like to… With tears that, in a flux of grie…