They call thee rich—I deem thee p… Since, if thou darest not use thy… But savest only for thine heirs, The treasure is not thine, but the…

(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.

Jealous, and with love o’erflowing… God demands a fervent heart; Grace and bounty still bestowing, Calls us to a grateful part. Oh, then, with supreme affection

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,

A Spartan 'scaping from the fight… His mother met him in his flight, Upheld a falchion to his breast, And thus the fugitive address’d: ‘Thou canst but live to blot with…

The Lord receives his highest pra… From humble minds and hearts since… While all the loud professor says Offends the righteous Judge’s ear… To walk as children of the day,

Go—thou art all unfit to share The pleasures of this place With such as its old tenants are, Creatures of gentler race. The squirrel here his hoard provid…

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

Contemplate, when the sun declines… Thy death with deep reflection! And when again he rising shines, The day of resurrection!

Here lies, whom hound did ne’er pu… Nor swifter greyhound follow, Whose foot ne’er tainted morning d… Nor ear heard huntsman’s hallo’, Old Tiney, surliest of his kind,

This evening, Delia, you and I, Have managed most delightfully, For with a frown we parted; Having contrived some trifle that We both may be much troubled at,

This is the feast of heavenly wine… And God invites to sup; The juices of the living Vine Were press’d to fill the cup. Oh! bless the Saviour, ye that ea…

Enamour’d, artless, young, on fore… Uncertain whither from myself to f… To thee, dear Lady, with an humbl… Let me devote my heart, which I h… By certain proofs not few, intrepi…

What Nature, alas! has denied To the delicate growth of our isle… Art has in a measure supplied, And winter is deck’d with a smile. See, Mary, what beauties I bring

The rose had been washed, just was… Which Mary to Anna conveyed; The plentiful moisture encumbered… And weighed down its beautiful hea… The cup was all filled, and the le…