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…

'Twas after dread Pultowa’s day, When fortune left the royal Swede… Around a slaughtered army lay, No more to combat and to bleed. The power and glory of the war,

Oh, Friend! for ever loved, for e… What fruitless tears have bathed t… What sighs re’echo’d to thy partin… Wilst thou wast struggling in the… Could tears retard the tyrant in h…

There is a pleasure in the pathles… There is a rapture on the lonely s… There is society, where none intru… By the deep sea, and music in its… I love not man the less, but Natu…

And thou wert sad—yet I was not w… And thou wert sick, and yet I was… Methought that joy and health alon… Where I was not—and pain and sorr… And is it thus?—it is as I foreto…

The antique Persians taught three… To draw the bow, to ride, and spea… This was the mode of Cyrus, best… A mode adopted since by modern you… Bows have they, generally with two…

When some proud son of man returns… Unknown to glory, but upheld by bi… The sculptor’s art exhausts the po… And storied urns record who rest b… When all is done, upon the tomb is…

Oh! Weep for those that wept by B… Whose shrines are desolate, whose… Weep for the harp of Judah’s brok… Mourn—where their God that dwelt-… II.

When the vain triumph of the imper… Whom servile Rome obey’d, and yet… Gave to the vulgar gaze each glori… That left a likeness of the brave… What most admired each scrutinisin…