Ah me! those old familiar bounds! That classic house, those classic… My pensive thought recalls! What tender urchins now confine, What little captives now repine,

A lake and a fairy boat To sail in the moonlight clear, - And merrily we would float From the dragons that watch us her… Thy gown should be snow-white silk

‘By the North Pole, I do challen… From 'Love’s Labour’s Lost.’ Paery, my man! has thy brave leg Yet struck its foot against the pe… On which the world is spun?

I had a gig-horse, and I called h… Because on Sundays for a little j… He was so fast and showy, quite a… Although he sometimes kicked and s… I had a chaise, and christened it…

Alas, the moon should ever beam To show what man should never see!… I saw a maiden on a stream, And fair was she! I staid awhile, to see her throw

Mother of light! how fairly dost t… Over those hoary crests, divinely… Art thou that huntress of the silv… Fabled of old? Or rather dost tho… Those cloudy summits thence to gaz…

It is not death, that sometime in… This eloquent breath shall take it… That sometime these bright stars,… In sunlight to the sun, shall set… That this warm conscious flesh sha…

Come, let us set our careful breas… Like Philomel, against the thorn, To aggravate the inward grief, That makes her accents so forlorn; The world has many cruel points,

Lady, wouldst thou heiress be To Winters cold and cruel part? When he sets the rivers free, Thou dost still lock up thy heart;… Thou that shouldst outlast the sno…

O Lady, leave thy silken thread And flowery tapestrie: There’s living roses on the bush, And blossoms on the tree; Stoop where thou wilt, thy careles…

Young ardent soul, graced with fai… Spring warmth of heart, and ferven… And still a large late love of all… Spite of the world’s cold practice… For all these gifts, I know not,…

Sleet! and hail! and thunder! And ye winds that rave, Till the sands there under Tinge the sullen wave— Winds, that like a demon

We watch’d her breathing thro’ the… Her breathing soft and low, As in her breast the wave of life Kept heaving to and fro. But when the morn came dim and sad

The curse of Adam, the old curse… Though I inherit in this feverish… Of worldly toil, vain wishes, and… And fruitless thought, in Care’s… Yet more sweet honey than of bitte…

Lov’st thou not, Alice, with the… To see the hardy Fisher hoist his… And stretch his sail towards the o… Like God’s own beadsman going for… His net into the deep, which doth…