THE LADY. O cavalier! what dost thou here, Thy tuneful vigils keeping; While the northern star looks cold… And half the world is sleeping?

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…

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;

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

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…

My thoughts by night are often fil… With visions false as fair: For in the past alone I build My castles in the air. I dwell not now on what may be:

’Tis midnight: the sky is with clo… The forest-trees bend in the loud-… The rain strongly beats on these t… The lightning pours swiftly its bl… Triumphant the tempest-fiend rides…

I play’d with you 'mid cowslips bl… When I was six and you were four; When garlands weaving, flower-ball… Were pleasures soon to please no m… Through groves and meads, o’er gra…

The poor man’s sins are glaring; In the face of ghostly warning He is caught in the fact Of an overt act— Buying greens on a Sunday morning…

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,

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

—anankta ton pantôn huperbal– lonta chronon makarôn. Pindar. Hymn. frag. 33 As the mountain-torrent rages, Loud, impetuous, swift, and strong…

Saint Laura, in her sleep of deat… Preserves beneath the tomb —'Tis willed where what is willed… In incorruptibility Her beauty and her bloom.

The ivy o’er the mouldering wall Spreads like a tree, the growth of… The wild wind through the doorless… A melancholy music rears, A solitary voice, that sighs

Milestone: All my troubles disappear, When the dinner-bell I hear, Over woodland, dale, and fell, Swinging slow with solemn swell,—