The beams of April, ere it goes, A worm, scarce visible, disclose; All winter long content to dwell The tenant of his native shell. The same prolific season gives

Night! how I love thy silent shad… My spirits they compose; The bliss of heaven my soul pervad… In spite of all my woes. While sleep instils her poppy dews

I sing the Sofa. I who lately san… Truth, Hope, and Charity, and tou… The solemn chords, and with a trem… Escaped with pain from that advent… Now seek repose upon an humbler th…

The shepherd touch’d his reed; swe… Essay’d, and oft essay’d to catch… And treasuring, as on her ear they… The numbers, echo’d note for note… The peevish youth, who ne’er had f…

Thracian parents, at his birth, Mourn their babe with many a tear, But, with undissembled mirth, Place him breathless on his bier. Greece and Rome, with equal score…

Miltiades! thy valor best (Although in every region known) The men of Persia can attest, Taught by thyself at Marathon.

The works of ancient bards divine, Aulus, thou scorn’st to read; And should posterity read thine, It would be strange indeed! When little more than boy in age,

I suffer fruitless anguish day by… Each moment, as it passes, marks m… Scarce knowing whither, doubtfully… And see no end of all that I sust… The more I strive the more I am w…

Traveller, regret not me; for thou… Just cause of sorrow none in my de… Who, dying, children’s children le… And with one wife lived many a yea… Three virtuous youths espoused my…

Dear Anna,—Between friend and fri… Prose answers every common end; Serves, in a plain and homely way, To express the occurrence of the d… Our health, the weather, and the n…

Poets attempt the noblest task the… Praising the Author of all good i… And, next, commemorating Worthies… The dead in whom that good abounde… Thee, therefore, of commercial fam…

Love is the Lord whom I obey, Whose will transported I perform; The centre of my rest, my stay, Love’s all in all to me, myself a… For uncreated charms I burn,

(Exodus, XVII.15) By whom was David taught To aim the deadly blow, When he Goliath fought, And laid the Gittite low?

Patron of all those luckless brain… That, to the wrong side leaning, Indite much metre with much pains, And little or no meaning; Ah why, since oceans, rivers, stre…

Hark! ’tis the twanging horn! O’e… That with its wearisome but needfu… Bestrides the wintry flood, in whi… Sees her unwrinkled face reflected… He comes, the herald of a noisy wo…