Long plunged in sorrow, I resign My soul to that dear hand of thine… Without reserve or fear; That hand shall wipe my streaming… Or into smiles of glad surprise

I was of late a barren plant, Useless, insignificant, Nor fig, nor grape, nor apple bore… A native of the marshy shore; But, gather’d for poetic use,

An Oyster, cast upon the shore, Was heard, though never heard befo… Complaining in a speech well worde… And worthy thus to be recorded:— Ah, hapless wretch! condemn’d to d…

As yet a stranger to the gentle fi… That Amathusia’s smiling Queen in… Not seldom I derided Cupid’s dart… And scorn’d his claim to rule all… Go, child, I said, transfix the t…

Say, ye apostate and profane, Wretches, who blush not to disdain Allegiance to your God,— Did e’er your idly wasted love Of virtue for her sake remove

Where hast thou floated, in what s… Thy pastime? When wast thou an eg… Lost in the immensity of ocean’s w… Roar as they might, the overbearin… That rocked the deep, thy cradle,…

They mock my toil—the nymphs and a… And whence this fond attempt to wr… Love-songs in language that thou l… How dar’st thou risque to sing the… Say truly. Find’st not oft thy pu…

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…

O Lord, my best desire fulfil, And help me to resign Life, health, and comfort to Thy… And make Thy pleasure mine. Why whould I shrink at Thy comman…

Grace, triumphant in the throne, Scorns a rival, reigns alone; Come and bow beneath her sway; Cast your idol works away! Works of man, when made his plea,

No longer I follow a sound; No longer a dream I pursue; Oh happiness! not to be found, Unattainable treasure, adieu! I have sought thee in splendour an…

He who sits from day to day Where the prisoned lark is hung, Heedless of his loudest lay, Hardly knows that he has sung. Where the watchman in his round

Did Cytherea to the skies From this pellucid lymph arise? Or was it Cytherea’s touch, When bathing here, that made it su…

The Bard, if e’er he feel at all, Must sure be quickened by a call Both on his heart and head, To pay with tuneful thanks the car… And kindness of a lady fair

With seeds and birdlime, from the… Eumelus gather’d free, though scan… No lordly patron’s hand he deign’d… Nor luxury knew, save liberty, nor… Thrice thirty years he lived, and…