Softly, softly blow, ye breezes, Gently o’er my Edwy fly! Lo! he slumbers, slumbers sweetly; Softly, zephyrs, pass him by! My love is asleep,

O Lord, another day is flown, And we, a lonely band, Are met once more before thy thron… To bless thy fostering hand. And wilt thou bend a listening ear…

Oft in sorrow, oft in woe, Onward, Christians, onward go; Fight the fight, maintain the stri… Strengthened with the bread of lif… Let your drooping hearts be glad;

Come, Anna! come, the morning daw… Faint streaks of radiance tinge th… Come, let us seek the dewy lawns, And watch the early lark arise; While nature, clad in vesture gay,

Yet once more, and once more, awak… From silence and neglect-one lofty… Lofty, yet wilder than the winds o… And speaking mysteries more than w… I ask of thee; for I, with hymnin…

Yes, it will be over soon.-This s… Of life will vanish from my feveri… And death my wearied spirit will r… From this wild region of unvaried… Yon brook will glide as softly as…

I. 1. Retired, remote from human noise, An humble Poet dwelt serene; His lot was lowly, yet his joys Were manifold, I ween.

Sad solitary Thought, who keep’st… Thy solemn vigils, in the sick man… Communing lonely with his sinking… And musing on the dubious glooms t… In dim obscurity before him,-thee,

PART I. Pictured in memory’s mellowing gla… Our infant days, our infant joys,… To roam in fancy in each cherish’d… The village churchyard, and the vi…

Gently, most gently on thy victim’… Consumption, lay thine hand! Let… Like the expiring lamp, unseen, aw… And softly go to slumber with the… And if it is true what holy men ha…

And canst thou, Mother, for a mom… That we, thy children, when old ag… Its blanching honours on thy weary… Could from our best of duties ever… Sooner the sun from his high spher…

Let the sublimer Muse, who wrapt… Rides on the raven pennons of the… Or o’er the field with purple havo… Lashes her steeds and sings along… Let her, whom more ferocious strai…

Sleep, baby mine, enkerchieft on m… Thy cries they pierce again my ble… Sleep, baby mine, not long thou’lt… To lull thee fondly in her arms to… Baby, why dost thou keep this sad…

Hark! how the merry bells ring joc… And now they die upon the veering… Anon they thunder loud Full on the musing ear. Wafted in varying cadence, by the…

Yes, once more that dying strain, Anna, touch thy lute for me; Sweet, when pity’s tones complain, Doubly sweet is melody. While the Virtues thus enweave