The grapes upon the Vicar’s wall Were ripe as ripe could be; And yellow leaves in sun and wind Were falling from the tree. On the hedge-elms in the narrow la…
Introduction. Person of Christ. His prayer on the cross. The process of his doctrines on the mind of the individual. Character of the elect. Superstition. Digression to the present war....
Composed while climbing the left a… With many a pause and oft reverted… I climb the Coomb’s ascent: sweet… Warble in shade their wild-wood me… Far off the unvarying Cuckoo soot…
'With Donne, whose muse on dromed… Wreathe iron pokers into true-love… Rhyme’s sturdy cripple, fancy’s ma… Wit’s forge and fire-blast, meanin…
It is an ancient Mariner, And he stoppeth one of three. 'By thy long grey beard and glitte… Now wherefore stopp’st thou me? The Bridegroom’s doors are opened…
When Hope but made Tranquillity b… A Flight of Hopes for ever on the… But made Tranquillity a conscious… And wheeling round and round in sp… Fann’d the calm air upon the brow…
Where is the grave of Sir Arthur… Where may the grave of that good m… By the side of a spring, on the br… Under the twigs of a young birch t… The oak that in summer was sweet t…
Richer than misers o’er their coun… Nobler than kings, or king-pollute… Here dwelt the man of Ross! O tra… Departed merit claims a reverent t… If 'neath this roof thy wine-cheer…
Ere on my bed my limbs I lay, God grant me grace my prayers to s… O God! preserve my mother dear In strength and health for many a… And, O! preserve my father too,
As some vast Tropic tree, itself… That crests its Head with clouds,… Feeds its deep roots, and with the… Of its wide base controls the fron… (By the slant current’s pressure s…
Oft o’er my brain does that strang… Which makes the present (while the… Seem a mere semblance of some unkn… Mixed with such feelings, as perpl… Self-questioned in her sleep: and…
How warm this woodland wild Reces… Love surely hath been breathing he… And this sweet bed of heath, my de… Swells up, then sinks with faint c… As if to have you yet more near.
Whom the untaught Shepherds call Pixies in their madrigal, Fancy’s children, here we dwell: Welcome, Ladies! to our cell. Here the wren of softest note
Though friendships differ endless… The sorts, methinks, may be reduce… Ac quaintance many, and Con quain… But for In quaintance I know only… The friend I’ve mourned with, and…
Ere the birth of my life, if I wi… No question was asked me—it could… If the life was the question, a th… And to live on be YES; what can… NATURE’S ANSWER