Full thirty frosts since thou wert… Have chilled the withered grove, Thou wretch! and hast thou lived s… Nor yet forgot to love? Ye sages! spite of your pretences

William was once a bashful youth; His modesty was such, That one might say (to say the tru… He rather had too much. Some said that it was want of sens…

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…

Though nature weigh our talents, a… To every man his modicum of sense, And Conversation in its better pa… May be esteem’d a gift, and not an… Yet much depends, as in the tiller…

(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.

’Tis folly all—let me no more be t… Of Parian porticos, and roofs of… Delightful views of nature, dresse… Enchant no longer this indifferent… The Lord of all things, in his hu…

(Genesis, V.24) Oh! for a closer walk with God, A calm and heavenly frame; A light to shine upon the road That leads me to the Lamb!

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

Happy songster, perch’d above, On the summit of the grove, Whom a dewdrop cheers to sing With the freedom of a king, From thy perch survey the fields

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,

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…

Sometimes a light surprises The Christian while he sings; It is the Lord who rises With healing on His wings; When comforts are declining,

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?

A poet’s cat, sedate and grave As poet well could wish to have, Was much addicted to inquire For nooks to which she might retir… And where, secure as mouse in chin…

Art thou some individual of a kind Long-lived by nature as the rook o… Heap treasure, then, for if thy ne… Thou hast excuse, and scarce canst… But man thou seem’st, clear theref…