Fragment 3 (Matilda Betham Poems)
A Pilgrim weary, toil-subdued, I reach'd a country, strange and rude, And trembled, lest approaching eve My hope of shelter might deceive; When I ...
A Pilgrim weary, toil-subdued, I reach'd a country, strange and rude, And trembled, lest approaching eve My hope of shelter might deceive; When I ...
Shall for the Man of Ross thy Lyre be strung,And sleeps illustrious Thanet yet unsung?Since to distinguish Merit is thy ...
PROLOGUE. Woe! to the just occasion that compels My verse to satire, when my soul rebels; Must I, unskill'd her ...
The south-wind brings Life, sunshine, and desire, And on every mount and meadow Breathes aromatic fire, But over the dead ...
I. The morn when first it thunders in March, The eel in the pond gives a leap, they say: As ...
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