Mary! I want a lyre with other st… Such aid from heaven as some have… An eloquence scarce given to morta… And undebased by praise of meaner… That ere through age or woe I she…

Season of my purest pleasure, Sealer of observing eyes! When, in larger, freer measure, I can commune with the skies; While, beneath thy shade extended,

Did not my Muse (what can she les… Perceive her own unworthiness, Could she by some well-chosen them… But hope to merit your esteem, She would not thus conceal her lay…

’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,

The beams of April, ere it goes, A worm, scarce visible, disclose; All winter long content to dwell The tenant of his native shell. The same prolific season gives

Trust me the meed of praise, dealt… From the nice scale of judgement,… Than does the lavish and o’erbeari… Of profuse courtesy. Not all the… Of India’s richest soil at random…

Kinsman beloved, and as a son by m… When I behold this fruit of thy r… The sculptured form of my old favo… I reverence feel for him, and love… Joy too and grief. Much joy that…

At length, my friend, the far-sent… Charged with thy kindness, to thei… They come, at length, from Deva’s… Where prone she seeks the salt Ve… Trust me, my joy is great that tho…

The works of ancient bards divine, Aulus, thou scorn’st to read; And should posterity read thine, It would be strange indeed! When little more than boy in age,

You give your cheks a rosy stain, With washes dye your hair; But paint and washes both are vain To give a youthful air. Those wrinkles mock your daily toi…

In Scotland’s realm, where trees… Nor even shrubs abound; But where, however bleak the view Some better things are found; For husband there and wife may boa…

The Saviour, what a noble flame Was kindled in his breast, When hasting to Jerusalem, He march’d before the rest. Good will to men, and zeal for Go…

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,

Oh for a lodge in some vast wilder… Some boundless contiguity of shade… Where rumour of oppression and dec… Of unsuccessful or successful war Might never reach me more! My ear…

My God, till I received Thy stro… How like a beast was I! So unaccustom’d to the yoke, So backward to comply. With grief my just reproach I hea…