‘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,

At morn we placed on his funeral b… Young Melanippus; and, at eventid… Unable to sustain a loss so dear, By her own hand his blooming siste… Thus Aristippus mourn’d his noble…

O thou, by long experience tried, Near whom no grief can long abide; My love! how full of sweet content I pass my years of banishment! All scenes alike engaging prove

’Tis morning; and the sun, with ru… Ascending, fires th’ horizon: whil… That crowd away before the driving… More ardent as the disk emerges mo… Resemble most some city in a blaze…

Though once a puppy, and though F… Here moulders one whose bones some… No sycophant, although of spaniel… And though no hound, a martyr to t… Ye squirrels, rabbits, leverets, r…

Strophe I My two-fold Book! single in show But double in Contents, Neat, but not curiously adorn’d Which in his early youth,

Sin enslaved me many years, And led me bound and blind; Till at length a thousand fears Came swarming o’er my mind. “Where,” said I, in deep distress…

Fond youth! who dream’st that hoar… Is needful not alone to pay For all thy various items sold, To serve the wants of every day; Bread, vinegar, and oil, and meat,

Whence it is, that amazed I hear From yonder withered spray, This foremost morn of all the year… The melody of May? And why, since thousands would be…

I was a grovelling creature once, And basely cleaved to earth: I wanted spirit to renounce The clod that gave me birth. But God hath breathed upon a worm…

God gives his mercies to be spent; Your hoard will do your soul no go… Gold is a blessing only lent, Repaid by giving others food. The world’s esteem is but a bribe,

‘I love the Lord,’ is still the s… This heart delights to sing: But I reply—your thoughts are vai… Perhaps ’tis no such thing. Before the power of love divine

To be remembered thus is fame, And in the first degree; And did the few like her the same, The press might sleep for me. So Homer, in the memory stored

... Thou know’st my praise of nature m… And that my raptures are not conju… To serve occasions of poetic pomp, But genuine, and art partner of th…

(Proverbs, VIII. 22-31) “Ere God had built the mountains, Or raised the fruitful hills; Before he fill’d the fountains That feed the running rills;