(Genesis, XXII.14) The saints should never be dismay’… Nor sink in hopeless fear; For when they least expect His ai… The Saviour will appear.

’Tis morning; and the sun with rud… Ascending, fires the horizon: whil… That crowd away before the driving… More ardent as the disk emerges mo… Resemble most some city in a blaze…

See where the Thames, the purest… That wavers to the noon-day beam, Divides the vale below; While like a vein of liquid ore His waves enrich the happy shore,

Almighty King! whose wondrous han… Supports the weight of sea and lan… Whose grace is such a boundless st… No heart shall break that sighs fo… Thy providence supplies my food,

Austin, accept a grateful verse fr… The poet’s treasure, no inglorious… Loved by the Muses, thy ingenuous… Pleasing requital in my verse may… Verse oft has dashed the scythe of…

Ease is the weary merchant’s praye… Who ploughs by night the Ægean flo… When neither moon nor stars appear… Or faintly glimmer through the clo… For ease the Mede with quiver gra…

O God, whose favorable eye, The sin-sick soul revives, Holy and heavenly is the joy Thy shining presence gives. Not such as hypocrites suppose,

Sin enslaved me many years, And led me bound and blind; Till at length a thousand fears Came swarming o’er my mind. ‘Where,’ said I, in deep distress…

In Cnidus born, the consort I bec… Of Euphron. Aretimias was my name… His bed I shared, nor proved a ba… But bore two children at a birth,… One child I leave to solace and u…

Ye sister Pow’rs who o’er the sac… Preside, and, Thou, fair mother o… Mnemosyne, and thou, who in thy gr… Immense reclined at leisure, hast… The Archives and the ord’nances o…

I slept when Venus enter’d: to my… A Cupid in her beauteous hand she… A bashful seeming boy, and thus sh… ‘Shepherd, receive my little one!… An untaught love, whom thou must t…

Jesus! whose blood so freely strea… To satisfy the law’s demand; By Thee from guilt and wrath rede… Before the Father’s face I stand. To reconcile offending man,

William was once a bashful youth; His modesty was such, That one might say (to say the tru… He rather had too much. Some said that it was want of sens…

Silent I sat, dejected, and alone… Making in thought the public woes… When, first, arose the image in my… Of England’s sufferings by that s… How death, his fun’ral torch and s…

The suitors sinned, but with a fai… Whom all this elegance might well… Nor can our censure on the husband… Who, for a wife so lovely, slew th…