Another Leonora once inspir’d Tasso, with fatal love to frenzy f… But how much happier, liv’d he now… Pierced with whatever pangs for lo… Since could he hear that heavenly…

Miltiades! thy valor best (Although in every region known) The men of Persia can attest, Taught by thyself at Marathon.

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…

’Twas in the glad season of spring… Asleep at the dawn of the day, I dream’€™d what I cannot but sin… So pleasant it seem’d as I lay. I dream’€™d that, on ocean afloat,

Oh that Pieria’s spring would thr… Pour its inspiring influence, and… No rill, but rather an o’erflowing… That, for my venerable Father’s s… All meaner themes renounced, my M…

My halting Muse, that dragg’st by… Thy slow, slow step, in melancholy… And lik’st that pace expressive of… Not less than Diopeia’s sprightli… When in the dance she beats with m…

As on a hill-top rude, when closin… Imbrowns the scene, some past’ral… Waters a lovely foreign plant with… That scarcely can its tender bud d… Borne from its native genial airs…

Heal us, Emmanuel! here we are, Waiting to feel Thy touch: Deep-wounded souls to Thee repair And, Saviour, we are such. Our faith is feeble, we confess,

On the green margin of the brook, Despairing Phyllida reclined, Whilst every sigh, and every look, Declared the anguish of her mind. Am I less lovely then? (she cries…

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…

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…

Reasoning at every step he treads, Man yet mistakes his way, While meaner things whom instinct… Are rarely known to stray. One silent eve I wandered late,

SCENE I.—Adam and Eve. Oh, my beloved companion! Oh thou of my existence, The very heart and soul! Hast thou, with such excess of ten…

Ye linnets, let us try, beneath th… Which shall be loudest in our Mak… In quest of some forlorn retreat… For all the world is blind, and wa… That God alone should prop the si…

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