How many between east and west, Disgrace their parent earth, Whose deeds constrain us to detest The day that gave them birth! Not so when Stella’s natal morn

Winter has a joy for me, While the Saviour’s charms I read… Lowly, meek, from blemish free, In the snowdrop’s pensive head. Spring returns, and brings along

God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform; He plants His footsteps in the se… And rides upon the storm. Deep in unfathomable mines

Lord, my soul with pleasure spring… When Jesu’s name I hear: And when God the Spirit brings The word of promise near: Beauties too, in holiness,

What Nature, alas! has denied To the delicate growth of our isle… Art has in a measure supplied, And winter is deck’d with a smile. See, Mary, what beauties I bring

Poor in my youth, and in life’s la… Rich to no end, I curse my natal… Who nought enjoy’d while young, de… And nought when old enjoy’d, denie…

(Jeremiah, XXIII.6) My God, how perfect are Thy ways! But mine polluted are; Sin twines itself about my praise, And slides into my prayer.

The billows swell, the winds are h… Clouds overcast my wintry sky; Out of the depths to Thee I call,… My fears are great, my strength is… O Lord, the pilot’s part perform,

“Me too, perchance, in future days… The sculptured stone shall show, With Paphian myrtle or with bays Parnassian on my brow. But I, or e’er that season come,

As yet a stranger to the gentle fi… That Amathusia’s smiling Queen in… Not seldom I derided Cupid’s dart… And scorn’d his claim to rule all… Go, child, I said, transfix the t…

The winter night now well nigh wor… The wakeful cock proclaimed approa… When Simulus, poor tenant of a fa… Of narrowest limits, heard the shr… Yawned, stretched his limbs, and a…

The straw-stuffed hamper with its… He open’d, cutting sheer th’ inser… Which bound the lid and lip secure… The rustling package first, bright… Or oats, or barley; next a bottle…

Charon! receive a family on board Itself sufficient for thy crazy ya… Apollo and Diana, for a word By me too proudly spoken, slew us…

To Jesus, the crown of my hope, My soul is in haste to be gone; O bear me, ye cherubim, up, And waft me away to His throne! My Saviour, whom absent I love,

The swallows in their torpid state Compose their useless wing, And bees in hives as idly wait The call of early spring. The keenest frost that binds the s…