Fortune! I thank thee: gentle god… Not that my muse, though bashful,… She would have thank’€™d thee rath… A treasure in her way; for neither… Of early breakfast, to dispel the…

Perfida, crudelis, victa et lympha… Non armis, laurum Gallia fraude p… Venalem pretio plebem conducit, et… Undique privatas patriciasque domo… Nequicquam conata su’, fœdissima s…

‘Write to Sardis,’ saith the Lord… ‘And write what He declares, He whose Spirit, and whose word, Upholds the seven stars: All thy works and ways I search,

Austin, accept a grateful verse fr… The poet’s treasure, no inglorious… Loved by the Muses, thy ingenuous… Pleasing requital in my verse may… Verse oft has dashed the scythe of…

(Zecheriah, XIII.1) There is a fountain fill’d with bl… Drawn from Emmanuel’s veins; And sinners, plunged beneath that… Lose all their guilty stains.

My God, till I received Thy stro… How like a beast was I! So unaccustom’d to the yoke, So backward to comply. With grief my just reproach I hea…

Miltiades! thy valor best (Although in every region known) The men of Persia can attest, Taught by thyself at Marathon.

My former hopes are fled, My terror now begins; I feel, alas! that I am dead In trespasses and sins. Ah, whither shall I fly?

Oh fond attempt to give a deathles… To names ignoble, born to be forgo… In vain recorded in historic page, They court the notice of a future… Those twinkling tiny lustres of th…

(Matthew, XIII.3) Ye sons of earth prepare the ploug… Break up your fallow ground; The sower is gone forth to sow, And scatter blessings round.

Ye sons of earth prepare the ploug… Break up your fallow ground; The sower is gone forth to sow, And scatter blessings round. The seed that finds a stony soil

Gracious Lord, our children see, By Thy mercy we are free; But shall these, alas! remain Subjects still of Satan’s reign? Israel’s young ones, when of old

That ocean you have late surveyed, Those rocks I too have seen; But I, afflicted and dismayed, You tranquil and serene. You from the flood-controlling ste…

This is the feast of heavenly wine… And God invites to sup; The juices of the living Vine Were press’d to fill the cup. Oh! bless the Saviour, ye that ea…

Forc’d from home and all its pleas… Afric’s coast I left forlorn; To increase a stranger’s treasures… O’er the raging billows borne; Men from England bought and sold…