Yet once again, my Harp, yet once… One ditty more, and on the mountai… I will again suspend thee. I have… The warm tear frequent on my cheek… At eventide, when all the winds we…

Oh, Warton! to thy soothing shell… Stretch’d remote in hermit cell, Where the brook runs babbling by, For ever I could listening lie; And catching all the muses’ fire,

Thou, spirit of the spangled night… I woo thee from the watchtower hig… Where thou dost sit to guide the b… Of lonely mariner. The winds are whistling o’er the w…

BOOK I. I sing the Cross!-Ye white-robed… Who know the chords of harmony to… Ye who o’er holy David’s varying… Were wont, of old, your hovering w…

He sunk, the impetuous river roll’… The sullen wave betray’d his dying… And rising sad the rustling sedge… The gale of evening touch’d the co… Nymph of the Trent! why didst tho…

Ye unseen spirits, whose wild melo… At evening rising slow, yet sweetl… Steal on the musing poet’s pensive… As by the wood-spring stretch’d su… When he, who now invokes you, low…

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…

Oh! thou who, in my early youth, When fancy wore the garb of truth, Wert wont to win my infant feet To some retired, deep fabled seat, Where, by the brooklet’s secret ti…

I’ve read, my friend, of Dioclesi… And many another noble Grecian, Who wealth and palaces resigned, In cots the joys of peace to find; Maximian’s meal of turnip-tops

Loud rage the winds without.-The… O’er the cold northstar casts her… And Silence, pausing in some snow… Starts as she hears, by fits, the… Where now, shut out from every sti…

‘In Heaven we shall be purified,… Awake, sweet harp of Judah, wake, Retune thy strings for Jesus’ sak… We sing the Saviour of our race, The Lamb, our shield, and hiding-…

Ill-fated maid, in whose unhappy t… Chill poverty and misery are seen, Anguish and discontent, the unhapp… Of life, and blackener of each bri… Why to thy votaries dost thou give…

Thy judgments, Lord, are just; th… The face of pity and of love divin… But mine is guilt-thou must not, c… While heaven is true, and equity i… Yes, oh my God!-such crimes as mi…

Lofft, unto thee one tributary son… The simple Muse, admiring, fain w… She longs to lisp thee to the list… And with thy name to bid the woodl… Fain would she blazon all thy virt…

Fast from the west the fading day-… And ebon Night assumes her solemn… Yet here alone, unheeding time, I… And o’er my friend still pour the… Oh! ’tis not long since, George,…