My song shall bless the Lord of a… My praise shall climb to His abod… Thee, Saviour, by that name I cal… The great Supreme, the mighty God… Without beginning or decline,

Did Cytherea to the skies From this pellucid lymph arise? Or was it Cytherea’s touch, When bathing here, that made it su…

The sparkling eye, the mantling ch… The polished front, the snowy neck… How seldom we behold in one! Glossy locks, and brow serene, Venus’ smiles, Diana’s mien,

Little inmate, full of mirth, Chirping on my kitchen hearth, Whereso’er be thine abode, Always harbinger of good, Pay me for thy warm retreat

To Jesus, the crown of my hope, My soul is in haste to be gone; O bear me, ye cherubim, up, And waft me away to His throne! My Saviour, whom absent I love,

The new-born child of gospel grace… Like some fair tree when summer’s… Beneath Emmanuel’s shining face Lifts up his blooming branch on hi… No fears he feels, he sees no foes…

These are not dew-drops, these are… And tears by Sally shed For absent Robin, who she fears With too much cause, is dead. One morn he came not to her hand

Grant me the Muse, ye gods! whose… Seeks not the mountain-top’s perni… Who can the tall Parnassian cliff… To visit oft the still Lethean la… Now her slow pinions brush the sil…

Hatred and vengence—my eternal por… Scarce can endure delay of executi… Wait with impatient readiness to s… Soul in a moment. Damned below Judas; more abhorred…

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…

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…

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

Pity, says the Theban bard, From my wishes I discard; Envy, let me rather be, Rather far, a theme for thee. Pity to distress is shown.

God gives his mercies to be spent; Your hoard will do your soul no go… Gold is a blessing only lent, Repaid by giving others food. The world’s esteem is but a bribe,

Poor in my youth, and in life’s la… Rich to no end, I curse my natal… Who nought enjoy’d while young, de… And nought when old enjoy’d, denie…