CHORUS OF ANGELS, Singing… To Heaven’s bright lyre let Iris… Adapt the spheres for chords, for… Let new-born gales discriminate th… Nor let old Time to measure times…

SCENE I.—CHORUS OF ANGEL… Now let us garlands weave Of all the fairest flowers, Now at this early dawn, For new-made man, and his companio…

See where the Thames, the purest… That wavers to the noon-day beam, Divides the vale below; While like a vein of liquid ore His waves enrich the happy shore,

(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;

(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.

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…

Sweet tenants of this grove! Who sing without design, A song of artless love, In unison with mine: These echoing shades return

Did not my Muse (what can she les… Perceive her own unworthiness, Could she by some well-chosen them… But hope to merit your esteem, She would not thus conceal her lay…

I am just two and two, I am warm,… And the parent of numbers that can… I am lawful, unlawful—a duty, a fa… I am often sold dear, good for not… An extraordinary boon, and a matte…

Since life in sorrow must be spent… So be it—I am well content, And meekly wait my last remove, Seeking only growth in love. No bliss I seek, but to fulfil

Heu inimicitias quoties parit æmu… Quam raro pulchrae, pulchra placer… Sed fines ultrà solitos discordia… Cum flores ipsos bilis et ira move… Hortus ubi dulces præbet tacitosq…

Love! if thy destined sacrifice am… Come, slay thy victim, and prepare… Plunged in thy depths of mercy, le… The death which every soul that li… I watch my hours, and see them fle…

Hence, my epistle—skim the Deep—f… Yon smooth expanse to the Teutoni… Haste—lest a friend should grieve… And the Gods grant that nothing t… I will myself invoke the King who…

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

’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;