THERE is one Mind, one omnipres… Omnific. His most holy name is Lo… Truth of subliming import! with th… Who feeds and saturates his consta… He from his small particular orbit…
Thicker than rain—drops on Novemb…
As when far off the warbled strain… That soar on Morning’s wing the v… Within his cage th’ imprisoned mat… Swells the full chorus with a gene… He bathes no pinion in the dewy li…
The first seen in the season Nitens et roboris expers Turget et insolida est: et spe del… —Ovid, Metam. [xv.203]. Thy smiles I note, sweet early Fl…
Edmund! thy grave with aching eye… And inly groan for heaven’s poor o… 'Tis tempest all or gloom: in earl… If gifted with the Ithuriel lance… We force to start amid her feigned…
A blessed lot hath he, who having… His youth and early manhood in the… And turmoil of the world, retreats… With cares that move, not agitate… To the same dwelling where his fat…
O! it is pleasant with a heart at… Just after sunset, or by moonlight… To make the shifting clouds be wha… Or let the easily persuaded eyes Own each quaint likeness issuing f…
Come hither, gently rowing, Come, bear me quickly o’er This stream so brightly flowing To yonder woodland shore. But vain were my endeavour
'And hail the chapel! hail the pla… Where Tell directed the avenging… With well-strung arm, that first p… Then aimed the arrow at the tyrant… Splendor’s fondly fostered child!
Sea-ward, white gleaming thro’ the… With arching Wings, the sea-mew o… Posts on, as bent on speed, now pa… Edges the stiffer Breeze, now, yi… Now floats upon the air, and sends…
The Frost performs its secret min… Unhelped by any wind. The owlet’s… Came loud—and hark, again! loud as… The inmates of my cottage, all at… Have left me to that solitude, whi…
The poet in his lone yet genial ho… Gives to his eyes a magnifying pow… Or rather he emancipates his eyes From the black shapeless accidents… In unctuous cones of kindling coal…
If dead, we cease to be ; if total… Swallow up life’s brief flash for… As summer-gusts, of sudden birth a… Whose sound and motion not alone d… But are their whole of being! If…
Tho’ veiled in spires of myrtle-wr… Love is a sword that cuts its shea… And thro’ the clefts, itself has m… We spy the flashes of the Blade! But thro’ the clefts, itself has m…
Scene—A spacious drawing-room, wi… Katharine. What are the words? Eliza. Ask our friend, the Improv… to ask of you, Sir ; it is that yo… sweetly.