Why need I say, Louisa dear! How glad I am to see you here, A lovely convalescent; Risen from the bed of pain and fea… And feverish heat incessant.

Much on my early youth I love to… Ere yet I bade that friendly dome… Where first, beneath the echoing c… I heard of guilt and wondered at t… Yet tho’ the hours flew by on care…

Maiden, that with sullen brow Sitt’st behind those virgins gay, Like a scorched and mildew’d bough… Leafless mid the blooms of May. Him who lured thee and forsook,

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…

Do you ask what the birds say? Th… The linnet, and thrush say, ‘I lo… In the winter they’re silent, the… What it says I don’t know, but it… But green leaves and blossoms, and…

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…

Not always should the tear’s ambro… Roll its soft anguish down thy fur… Not always heaven-breathed tones o… Beseem thee, Mercy! Yon dark Sco… Who with proud words of dear-loved…

I know ‘tis but a Dream, yet feel… Than if ’twere Truth. It has been… Must I die under it? Is no one ne… Will no one hear these stifled gro…

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, oft, methinks, the while with… I breathe, as from the heart, thy… And dedicated bame, I hear A promise and a mystery, A pledge of more than passing life…

(Beareth all things.—-1 Cor. xiii… Gently I took that which ungently… And without scorn forgave:—Do tho… A wrong done to thee think a cat’s… Thou wouldst not see, were not thi…

Thus far my scanty brain hath buil… Elaborate and swelling; ­ yet the… Not owns it. From thy spirit-brea… I ask not now, my friend! the aidi… Tedious to thee, and from thy anxi…

Hence that fantastic wantonness of… O Youth to partial Fortune vainly… To plunder’d Want’s half-shelter’… Go, and some hunger-bitten infant… Moan haply in a dying mother’s ear…

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…

Tho’ roused by that dark Visir ri… Have driven our Priestly o’er the… Tho’ Superstition and her wolfish… Bay his mild radiance, impotent an… Calm in his halls of Brightness h…