Dear architect of fine Chateaux i… Worthier to stand for ever, if the… Than any built of stone, or yet of… For back of royal elephant to bear… Oh for permission from the skies t…

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

It flatters and deceives thy view, This mirror of ill-polish’d ore; For, were it just, and told thee t… Thou wouldst consult it never more…

Thankless for favours from on high… Man thinks he fades too soon; Though ’tis his privilege to die, Would he improve the boon. But he, not wise enough to scan

(Isaiah, LVII.15) The Lord will happiness divine On contrite hearts bestow; Then tell me, gracious God, is mi… A contrite heart or no?

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?

(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.

Me to whatever state the gods assi… Believe, my love, whatever state b… Ne’er shall my breast one anxious… Ne’er shall my heart confess a rea… If to thy share heaven’s choicest…

Hatred and vengence—my eternal por… Scarce can endure delay of executi… Wait with impatient readiness to s… Soul in a moment. Damned below Judas; more abhorred…

Madam,—A stranger’s purpose in th… Is to congratulate and not to prai… To give the creature the Creator’… Were sin in me, and an offence to… From man to man, or e’en to woman…

Sun! stay thy course, this moment… Suspend the o’er flowing tide of d… Divulge not such a love as mine, Ah! hide the mystery divine; Lest man, who deems my glory shame…

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

’Tis my happiness below Not to live without the cross, But the Saviour’s power to know, Sanctifying every loss; Trials must and will befall;

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…

To keep the lamp alive, With oil we fill the bowl; ’Tis water makes the willow thrive… And grace that feeds the soul. The Lord’s unsparing hand