To meet, to know, to love—and then… Is the sad tale of many a human he…
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…
The Moon, how definite its orb! Yet gaze again, and with a steady… 'Tis there indeed,—but where is it… It is suffused o’er all the sapphi… Trees, herbage, snake-like stream,…
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…
O peace, that on a lilied bank dos… To rest thine head beneath an oliv… I would that from the pinions of t… One quill withouten pain yplucked… For oh! I wish my Sara’s frowns t…
As when a child on some long winte… Affrighted clinging to its Granda… With eager wond’ring and perturbed… Listens strange tales of fearful d… Muttered to wretch by necromantic…
As late each flower that sweetest… I pluck’d, the Garden’s pride! Within the petals of a Rose A sleeping Love I 'spied. Around his brows a beamy wreath
Thus far my scanty brain hath buil… Elaborate and swelling; Â yet the… Not owns it. From thy spirit-brea… I ask not now, my friend! the aidi… Tedious to thee, and from thy anxi…
Cupid, if storying legends tell ar… Once framed a rich elixer of delig… A chalice o’er love-kindled flames… And in it nectar and ambrosia mixe… With these the magic dews which ev…
Well! If the Bard was weather—wis… The grand old ballad of Sir Patri… This night, so tranquil now, will… Unroused by winds, that ply a busi… Than those which mould yon cloud i…
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…
The butterfly the ancient Grecian… The soul’s fair emblem, and its on… But of the soul, escaped the slavi… Of mortal life!—For in this earth… Ours is the reptile’s lot, much to…
All Nature seems at work. Slugs l… The bees are stirring—birds are on… And Winter slumbering in the open… Wears on his smiling face a dream… And I the while, the sole unbusy…
... Finally, what is Reason? You… answer:— Whene’er the mist, that stands 'tw… [Sublimates] to a pure transparenc… That intercepts no light and adds…
Ungrateful he, who pluck’d thee fr… Poor faded flow’ret! on his carele… Inhal’d awhile thy odours on his w… Then onward pass’d and left thee t… Ah! melancholy emblem! had I seen