O, MY Spirit, art thou vanquisht… Is thy latest prospect gone? Must my task be thus relinquisht Ere my noble end is won? Must I die, and be remember’d

FLY not away, wee birdie, pray! No weasels we, no evil-bringers, Would make thee bear the pangs tha… Too oft the hearts of sweetest sin… Long may thy nest with eggs be ble…

A SONG in devotion I sing to my… Ah! be startled not to discover I… To fold in my arms and possess wha… And many a time is the theme of my… My manhood’s dissolved at the sigh…

A LITTLE brooklet trilled a son… As merry as the day was long, At which a music-hater stung To frenzy said: 'I’ll bind thy to… And quell thy merriment:' That…

AH! a lovely jewel was Mary of C… And now she is cold in the clay, We think of the heart-cheering ima… As we pass down the old waggon way… Her air was a magical air, and the…

DEAR critics, pray, what have I… That thus you frown so? tell me tr… ‘You’ve for your neck a halter spu… In blaming of our race unduly!’ Don’t hang me, pray!—Just praise…

I SAW but once that lovely one, Nor need I see her twice to love; She broke upon me like the dawn, And o’er my soul her magic wove— Yea, forced the lion stern to own

OLD Uncle Bob lay on the settle, At eventide, while on the hob, ‘Roe-tee-riti-too’ sang the kettle… And charmed the dear heart of old… ‘Ree-tee-riti-too’ on his ears, lo…

DECK’D in a many gems of morn, A daffodil without a peer, I reared my head, and treat with s… A one-pearl-gifted daisy near. That very hour, lo! wind-a-rock’d

HER harp she takes, from string t… Her little snowy fingers, glancing… Into Night’s ear a wild spell fli… And all the while my heart is danc… Why thus, fond heart, thus dancest…

WAS ever wretch in such a plight? I scramble on I know not whither! The witches are abroad to-night; Some wicked one has led me hither! ‘That’s just like you, you’ll have…

WOULD I could waken numbers, br… Than is the lark’s song in the clo… Then would I tell you in befittin… How much the Seer is worthy of yo… Shy, sensitive is he, and far from…

WOULD I could to freedom awaken… Half worthy the theme, then, a son… Would be echoed on high by the ser… And re-echoed on earth till with r… I would tell of the glory she give…

Too lovely art thou to behold, And not to be stung by desire, To bathe in those ringlets of gold… To bathe in those glances of fire. Too lovely art thou to the ken,

SHE is not fashioned to command, Nor once, for grace, in her is sho… A form that peers the lily-wand— An air the lily’s self might own; Not such her vaunt, tho’ such ench…