Time was when I was free as air, The thistle’s downy seed my fare, My drink the morning dew; I perch’d at will on every spray, My form genteel, my plumage gay,

(Judges, VI.25) Jesus! whose blood so freely strea… To satisfy the law’s demand; By Thee from guilt and wrath rede… Before the Father’s face I stand.

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…

The Birds put off their every hue… To dress a room for Montagu. The peacock sends his heavenly dye… His rainbows and his starry eyes; The pheasant plumes, which round e…

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,

Holy Lord God! I love Thy truth, Nor dare Thy least commandment sl… Yet pierced by sin the serpent’s t… I mourn the anguish of the bite. But though the poison lurks within…

Poor in my youth, and in life’s la… Rich to no end, I curse my natal… Who nought enjoy’d while young, de… And nought when old enjoy’d, denie…

Hermocratia named—save only one— Twice fifteen births I bore, and… For neither Phoebus pierced my th… Nor Dian—she my girls, or he my b… But Dian rather, when my daughter…

Sleep at last has fled these eyes, Nor do I regret his flight, More alert my spirits rise, And my heart is free and light. Nature silent all around,

Hope, like the short-lived ray tha… Through wintry skies, upon the fro… Cheers e’en the face of misery to… But soon the momentary pleasure’s… How oft, my Delia, since our last…

The Spirit breathes upon the word… And brings the truth to sight; Precepts and promises afford A sanctifying light. A glory gilds the sacred page,

God moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform; He plants his footsteps in the sea… And rides upon the storm. Deep in unfathomable mines

In painted plumes superbly dress’d… A native of the gorgeous east, By many a billow toss’d; Poll gains at length the British… Part of the captain’s precious sto…

(John, XXI.16) Hark my soul! it is the Lord; ’Tis Thy Saviour, hear His word; Jesus speaks and speaks to thee, “Say poor sinner, lovst thou me?

Nor oils of balmy scene produce, Nor mirror for Minerva’s use, Ye nymphs who lave her; she, array… In genuine beauty, scorns their ai… Not even when they left the skies,