O! The spring-time of life is the… And the morning of love is the sea… Ere noontide and summer, with radi… Look down on their beauty, to parc… 0! faint are the blossoms life’s p…

By the mossy weed-flowered column, Where the setting moonbeam’s glanc… Streams a radiance cold and solemn On the haunts of old romance: Know’st thou what those shafts bet…

August, 1842 with a remembrance of August, 1807 I gaze, where August’s sunbeam fa… Along these grey and lonely walls, Till in its light absorbed appears

The mountain sheep are sweeter, But the valley sheep are fatter; We therefore deemed it meeter To carry off the latter. We made an expedition;

O freedom! power of life and light… Sole nurse of truth and glory! Bright dweller on the rocky cliff! Lone wanderer on the sea! Where’er the sunbeam slumbers brig…

[To the tune of “Turning, turning… RECITATIVE. MR. PAPERST… Jack Horner’s CHRISTMAS PIE… Interpreted to mean the public pur… From thence a plum he drew. O hap…

I dug, beneath the cypress shade, What well might seem an elfin’s gr… And every pledge in earth I laid, That erst thy false affection gave… I pressed them down the sod beneat…

Beyond the sea, beyond the sea, My heart is gone, far, far from me… And ever on its track will flee My thoughts, my dreams, beyond the… Beyond the sea, beyond the sea,

Accept, bright spirit, reft in lif… This votive wreath to thy untimely… Formed to adorn all scenes, and ch… The fire-side circle, and the cour… Thy friends to gladden, and thy ho…

Nay, deem me not insensible, Cesa… To female charms; nor think this h… Is cas’d in adamant; because, fors… I cannot ogle, and hyperbolize, And whisper tender nothings in the…

—anankta ton pantôn huperbal– lonta chronon makarôn. Pindar. Hymn. frag. 33 Spirit of the days of yore! Thou! who, in thy haunted cave,

In life three ghostly friars were… And now three friarly ghosts we be… Around our shadowy table placed, The spectral bowl before us floats… With wine that none but ghosts can…

’Tis said the rose is Love’s own… Its blush so bright, its thorns so… And winter on its bloom has power, But has not on its sweetness any. For though young Love’s ethereal…

O’er bush and briar Childe Launce… With ardent hopes elate, And loudly blew the horn that hung Before Sir Hornbook’s gate. The inner portals opened wide,

I DUG, beneath the cypress shade…    What well might seem an elfin’s… And every pledge in earth I laid,    That erst thy false affection g… I press’d them down the sod beneat…