#EnglishWriters
‘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,
Sauntering along the street one da… On trifles musing by the way, Up steps a free familiar wight; (I scarcely knew the man by sight.… ‘Carlos (he cried), your hand, my…
Time was when I was free as air, The thistle’s downy seed my fare, My drink the morning dew; I perch’d at will on every spray, My form genteel, my plumage gay,
(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.
Bid adieu, my sad heart, bid adieu… Thy pleasure is past, and thy sorr… See the shadows of evening how far… And a long night is coming, that n… For the sun is now set that enlive…
Grace, triumphant in the throne, Scorns a rival, reigns alone; Come and bow beneath her sway; Cast your idol works away! Works of man, when made his plea,
(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.
Romney, expert infallibly to trace On chart of canvas, not the form a… And semblance, but, however faintl… The mind’s impression too on every… With strokes that time ought never…
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…
(Ezekiel, XXXVI. 25-28) The Lord proclaims His grace abro… “Behold, I change your hearts of… Each shall renounce his idol-god, And serve, henceforth, the Lord a…
Lord, who hast suffer’d all for me… My peace and pardon to procure, The lighter cross I bear for Thee… Help me with patience to endure. The storm of loud repining hush;
My mother! if thou love me, name n… My noble birth! Sounding at every… My noble birth, thou kill’st me.… As to their only refuge, all from… Nature withholds all good besides;…
My halting Muse, that dragg’st by… Thy slow, slow step, in melancholy… And lik’st that pace expressive of… Not less than Diopeia’s sprightli… When in the dance she beats with m…
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…
My lids with grief were tumid yet, And still my sullied cheek was wet With briny dews profusely shed For venerable Winton dead, When Fame, whose tales of saddest…