Rarely, rarely, comest thou, Spirit of Delight! Wherefore hast thou left me now Many a day and night? Many a weary night and day

What was the shriek that struck F… As it sate on the ruins of time th… Hark! it floats on the fitful blas… And breathes to the pale moon a fu… It is the Benshie’s moan on the s…

Before those cruel twins whom at o… Incestuous Change bore to her fat… Error and Truth, had hunted from… All those bright natures which ado… And left us nothing to believe in,…

Dear home, thou scene of earliest… The least of which wronged Memory… Bitterer than all thine unremember…

The season was the childhood of sw… Whose sunny hours from morning unt… Went creeping through the day with… Each with its load of pleasure; sl… Like the long years of blest Eter…

'What art thou, Presumptuous, who… The wreath to mighty poets only du… Even whilst like a forgotten moon… Touch not those leaves which for t… Who wander o’er the Paradise of f…

Art thou pale for weariness Of climbing heaven and gazing on t… Wandering companionless Among the stars that have a differ… And ever changing, like a joyless…

And, like a dying lady lean and pa… Who totters forth, wrapp’d in a ga… Out of her chamber, led by the ins… And feeble wanderings of her fadin… The moon arose up in the murky eas…

Earth, ocean, air, belovèd brother… If our great Mother has imbued my… With aught of natural piety to fee… Your love, and recompense the boon… If dewy morn, and odorous noon, an…