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…

(Exodus, XV.26) Heal us, Emmanuel! here we are, Waiting to feel Thy touch: Deep-wounded souls to Thee repair And, Saviour, we are such.

A spaniel, Beau, that fares like… Well fed, and at his ease, Should wiser be than to pursue Each trifle that he sees. But you have killed a tiny bird,

You give your cheks a rosy stain, With washes dye your hair; But paint and washes both are vain To give a youthful air. Those wrinkles mock your daily toi…

Ye Nymphs of Himera (for ye have… Erewhile for Daphnis and for Hyla… And over Bion’s long-lamented bie… The fruitless meed of many a sacre… Now, through the villas laved by…

No strength of nature can suffice To serve the Lord aright: And what she has she misapplies, For want of clearer light. How long beneath the law I lay

Thy country, Wilberforce, with ju… Hears thee, by cruel men and impio… Fanatic, for thy zeal to loose th’… From exile, public sale, and slav’… Friend of the poor, the wrong’d, t…

When a bar of pure silver or ingot… Is sent to be flatted or wrought i… It is pass’d between cylinders oft… In an engine of utmost mechanical… Thus tortured and squeezed, at las…

Oh that those lips had language!… With me but roughly since I heard… Those lips are thine– thy own swee… The same that oft in childhood sol… Voice only fails, else, how distin…

Reader! behold a monument That asks no sigh or tear, Though it perpetuate the event Of a great burial here.

Here lies, whom hound did ne’er pu… Nor swifter greyhound follow, Whose foot ne’er tainted morning d… Nor ear heard huntsman’s hallo’, Old Tiney, surliest of his kind,

Airy del Castro was as bold a kni… As ever earned a lady’s love in fi… Many he sought, but one above the… His tender heart victoriously impr… In fairy land was born the matchle…

Ye sister Pow’rs who o’er the sac… Preside, and, Thou, fair mother o… Mnemosyne, and thou, who in thy gr… Immense reclined at leisure, hast… The Archives and the ord’nances o…

“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,

(Isaiah, XII.1) I will praise Thee every day Now Thine anger’s turn’d away; Comfortable thoughts arise From the bleeding sacrifice.