‘Where is the place of their first… ’Where, oh where, is that green ba… ‘Under whose cover ’The maid and her lover ‘Plighted their troth and their co…

Wind of the winter night, whence c… And whither, oh whither, art wande… Sad, sad is thy voice on this deso… And mournful, oh mournful, thy how… Say where hast thou been on thy cl…

Come, gentle phantasie, Come to my lone retreat, Beside the rolling sea, Where the playful billows beat; Come at still twilight’s time,

O! for the shade of the sycamore, That spreadeth its boughs at my co… O! for the kiss of my bonnie bride… And the welcome glow of her warm f… And O! for the smile of my bonnie…

I saw a stain on the last year’s s… Brothers! a stain of blood! But the cold hath past, and the wa… And the trees are in the bud. The snow hath melted from dale and…

BALLAD. ’Tis dreamy midnight’s solemn hour… The busy village sleeps, And the pale moonbeam’s silver she… Its nightly vigil keeps;

Soldier of Poland! wherefore sigh… Freedom, though crushed, shall nev… Though for awhile her noble head Be trampled by the Cossack’s trea… Though the proud Russian lay her…

Far from bustle, strife, and care, ‘Mong the woods I’ve wooed her. And to her secluded nook, By the margin of a brook, And by waters bright and blue,

O! for an eagle’s wings, To brave the rugged blast, In spite of wind and storm to soar O’er mount and meadow vast. O! that I might, like thee,

True thoughts, your days of grief… No more shall scorn or hate impede… Born in the light, wherever the su… Shines on mankind, mankind shall h… So grow, ye grains of mustard-seed…

Deep in the shade of the wild wood… There standeth alone an old oak tr… And ever at night, 'mong its branc… The cold wind mourneth its glories… And the nightingale singeth her sa…

A mighty tempest rent the sky, As if a god were passing by. Bending to earth my humbled head, In solemn and religious dread, And kneeling on the sod,

SHEPHERD, thou say’st there is… Which rules our changeful destinie… Can mortal vision soar so far, Or pierce such mighty mysteries? Shepherd, ’tis said thy mind recal…

The soldier bold, when the bugles… Must start from his pleasant sleep… To measure alone his weary round On the gloomy castle-keep. But we, merry men, in the pathless…

The rushing winds around us sweep, The storms about us roar, And we-we skim the foaming deep, A thousand miles from shore. Fierce o’er the wave the tempests…