The antique Persians taught three… To draw the bow, to ride, and spea… This was the mode of Cyrus, best… A mode adopted since by modern you… Bows have they, generally with two…

I speak not, I trace not, I breat… There is grief in the sound, there… But the tear that now burns on my… The deep thoughts that dwell in th… Too brief for our passion, too lon…

These locks, which fondly thus ent… In firmer chains our hearts confin… Than all th’ unmeaning protestatio… Which swell with nonsense, love or… Our love is fix’d, I think we’ve…

How sweetly shines through azure s… The lamp of heaven on Lora’s shor… Where Alva’s hoary turrets rise, And hear the din of arms no more! But often has yon rolling moon

Thy cheek is pale with thought, bu… And yet so lovely, that if Mirth… Its rose of whiteness with the bri… My heart would wish away that rude… And dazzle not thy deep-blue eyes—…

‘It is the voice of years that are… they roll before me with all their… Newstead! fast-falling, once-respl… Religion’s shrine! repentant HE… Of warriors, monks, and dames the…

Few years have pass’d since thou a… Were firmest friends, at least in… And childhood’s gay sincerity Preserved our feelings long the sa… But now, like me, too well thou kn…

Bob Southey! You’re a poet—Poet-… And representative of all the race… Although 'tis true that you turn’d… Last—yours has lately been a commo… And now, my Epic Renegade! what a…

Sweet girl! though only once we me… That meeting I shall ne’er forget… And though we ne’er may meet again… Remembrance will thy form retain. I would not say, ‘I love,’ but st…