I sing the fates of Gebir. He had… Among those mountain—caverns which… His labours yet, vast halls and fl… Nor have forgotten their old maste… Though severed from his people her…

Along this coast I led the vacant… To the lone sunshine on the uneven… And nipt the stubborn grass and ju… With one unconscious inobservant h… While crept the other by degrees m…

Welcome, old friend! These many y… Have we lived door by door; The fates have laid aside their sh… Perhaps for some few more. I was indocile at an age

Past ruined Ilion Helen lives, Alcestis rises from the shades. Verse calls them forth; 'tis verse… Immortal youth to mortal maids. Soon shall oblivion’s deepening ve…

Zoe: Changed? very true, O Thero… Theron: It would at least have be… To hold a moment back from me the… You let recoil thus sharply or my… Not long ago, not very long, you o…

Laertes: Gods help thee! and rest… My good old guest, I am more old… Yet have outlived by many years my… Odysseus and the chaste Penelope. Homer: Hither I come to visit the…

I loved him not; and yet, now he i… I feel I am alone. I check’d him while he spoke; yet,… Alas! I would not check. For reasons not to love him once…

LO! where the four mimosas blend… In calm repose at last is Landor… For ere he slept he saw them plant… By her his soul had ever held most… And he had liv’d enough when he ha…

Mild is the parting year, and swee… The odour of the falling spray; Life passes on more rudely fleet, And balmless is its closing day. I wait its close, I court its glo…

With much ado you fail to tell The requisites for writing well; But, what bad writing is, you quit… Have proved by every line you writ…

To my ninth decade I have tottere… And no soft arm bends now my steps… She, who once led me where she wou… So when he calls me, Death shall…

Phraortes! where art thou? The flames were panting after us,… Before the Gods, who heard nor pr… Temples had sunk to earth, and oth… O’er riven altars broke

FRIENDS, whom she look’d at bla… And her white wrist above it, gem—… Were arguing with Pentheusa: she… Report of Creon’s death, whom yea… She listen’d to, well—pleas’d; and…

Ianthe! you are call’d to cross th… A path forbidden me! Remember, while the Sun his bless… Upon the mountain—heads, How often we have watcht him layin…

TO turn my volumes o’er nor find (Sweet unsuspicious friend!) Some vestige of an erring mind To chide or discommend, Believe that all were lov’d like y…