Tho’ much averse, dear Jack, to f… To find a likeness for friend V——… I’ve made, thro’ earth, and air, a… A voyage of discovery! And let me add (to ward off strife…
Mark this holy chapel well! The birth-place, this, of William… Here, where stands God’s altar dr… Stood his parent’s marriage-bed. II.
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…
The shepherds went their hasty way… And found the lowly stable-shed Where the Virgin-Mother lay: And now they checked their eager t… For to the Babe, that at her boso…
The Sun now rose upon the right: Out of the sea came he, Still hid in mist, and on the left Went down into the sea. And the good south wind still blew…
Dormi, Jesu! Mater ridet Quae tam dulcem somnum videt, Dormi, Jesu! blandule! Si non dormis, Mater plorat, Inter fila cantans orat,
Are there two things, of all which… That are so like each other and so… As mutual Love seems like to Happ… Dear Asra, woman beyond utterance… This love which ever welling at my…
What is an Epigram? A dwarfish wh… Its body brevity, and wit its soul…
On the wide level of a mountain’s… (I knew not where, but 'twas some… Their pinions, ostrich-like, for s… Two lovely children run an endless… A sister and a brother!
Sister of love-lorn Poets, Philom… How many Bards in city garret pen… While at their window they with do… Mark the faint lamp-beam on the ke… And listen to the drowsy cry of W…
In Köhln, a town of monks and bon… And pavements fang’d with murderou… And rags, and hags, and hideous we… I counted two and seventy stenches… All well defined, and several stin…
Where graced with many a classic s… Cam rolls his reverend stream alon… I haste to urge the learned toil That sternly chides my love-lorn s… Ah me! too mindful of the days
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,…
Lady. If Love be dead (and you aver it!… Tell me, Bard! where Love lies bu… Poet. Love lies buried where 'twas born,
Sad lot, to have no Hope! Though… He fain would frame a prayer withi… Would fain entreat for some sweet… That his sick body might have ease… He strove in vain! the dull sighs…