George the First was always recko… Vile, but viler George the Second… And what mortal ever heard Any good of George the Third? When from earth the Fourth descen…
COME, Sleep! but mind ye! if you… The little girl that struck me at… By Jove! I would not give you hal… For all your poppy—heads and all y…
God scatters beauty as he scatters… O’er the wide earth, and tells us… A hundred lights in every temple b… And at each shrine I bend my knee…
Life (priest and poet say) is but… I wish no happier one than to be l… Beneath some cool syringa’s scente… Or wavy willow, by the running str… Brimful of Moral, where the Drago…
FATHER! the little girl we see Is not, I fancy, so like me; You never hold her on your knee. When she came home, the other day, You kiss’d her; but I cannot say
In Clementina’s artless mien Lucilla asks me what I see, And are the roses of sixteen Enough for me? Lucilla asks, if that be all,
YES; I write verses now and then… But blunt and flaccid is my pen, No longer talk’d of by young men As rather clever; In the last quarter are my eyes,
Mild is the parting year, and swee… The odour of the falling spray; Life passes on more rudely fleet, And balmless is its closing day. I wait its close, I court its glo…
Ah what avails the sceptred race, Ah what the form divine! What every virtue, every grace! Rose Aylmer, all were thine. Rose Aylmer, whom these wakeful e…
YOU smil’d, you spoke, and I bel… By every word and smile deceiv’d. Another man would hope no more; Nor hope I what I hop’d before: But let not this last wish be vain…
Against the groaning mast I stand… The Atlantic surges swell, To bear me from my native land And Zoë's wild farewell. From billow upon billow hurl’d
Welcome, old friend! These many y… Have we lived door by door; The fates have laid aside their sh… Perhaps for some few more. I was indocile at an age
THE MOTHER of the Muses, we a… Is Memory: she has left me; they… And shake my shoulder, urging me t… About the summer days, my loves of… Alas! alas! is all I can reply.
HERE, ever since you went abroad… If there be change no change I se… I only walk our wonted road, The road is only walk’d by me. Yes; I forgot; a change there is—
Soon, O Ianthe! life is o’er, And sooner beauty’s heavenly smile… Grant only (and I ask no more), Let love remain that little while.
