The Saviour, what a noble flame Was kindled in his breast, When hasting to Jerusalem, He march’d before the rest. Good will to men, and zeal for Go…

The straw-stuffed hamper with its… He open’d, cutting sheer th’ inser… Which bound the lid and lip secure… The rustling package first, bright… Or oats, or barley; next a bottle…

A needle, small as small can be, In bulk and use surpasses me, Nor is my purchase dear; For little, and almost for nought As many of my kind are bought

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…

Would my Delia know if I love, le… My last thought at night, and the… With my prayers and best wishes pr… Let her guess what I muse on, whe… I stride o’er the stubble each day…

The fountain in its source, No drought of summer fears; The farther it pursues its course, The nobler it appears. But shallow cisterns yield

I wish thy lot, now bad, still wor… For when at worst, they say, thing…

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…

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…

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

In language warm as could be breat… Thy picture speaks the original my… Not by those looks that indicate t… They only speak thee friend of all… Expression here more soothing stil…

I place an offering at thy shrine, From taint and blemish clear, Simple and pure in its design, Of all that I hold dear. I yield thee back thy gifts again,

No strength of nature can suffice To serve the Lord aright: And what she has she misapplies, For want of clearer light. How long beneath the law I lay

Rebellion is my theme all day, I only wish 'twould come (As who knows but perhaps it may) A little nearer home. Yon roaring boys who rave and figh…

Too many, Lord, abuse Thy grace In this licentious day, And while they boast they see Thy… They turn their own away. Thy book displays a gracious light