Elegy To The Memory Of William Seward, Esq. (Anne Hunter Poems)
WHO DIED APRIL 24, 1799. SAY, shall the muse, the muse to Seward dear,Fail to the mournful rites her aid ...
WHO DIED APRIL 24, 1799. SAY, shall the muse, the muse to Seward dear,Fail to the mournful rites her aid ...
A Slovene wreath your poet has entwined, Of fifteen sonnets is the chaplet bound, And in it thrice the Master ...
XCI wonder if these sonnets which I sing To thee alone--our secret love's poor cheer, By any chance will reach ...
They at the altar pledge their formal vow, Then go, and straight forget that vow was made-- These common lovers, ...
XVIAll the world's malice, all the spite of fate, Cannot undo the rapture of the past. I, like a victor, ...
IN the pride of her beauty a dear one is shining,The year that so gracefully grew by our side:The white ...
ALL my weary days I pass'd Sick at heart and poor in purse. Poverty's the greatest curse, Riches are the ...
WHEN Venus and Hypocrisy combine, Oft pranks are played that show a deep design; Men are but men, and friars ...
Pretty Nymph! within this Shade, Whilst the Flocks to rest are laid, Whilst the World dissolves in Heat, Take ...
Venus, when her son was lost, Cried him up and down the coast, In hamlets, palaces, and parks, And told ...
LARA. CANTO THE FIRST. I. The Serfs are glad through Lara's wide domain, And slavery half forgets her ...
If Michael, leader of God's host When Heaven and Hell are met, Looked down on you from Heaven's door-post He ...
There were still shards of an ancient pastoral in those shires of the island where the cattle drank their pools ...
Greene, garlanded with February's few flowers Ere March came in with Marlowe's rapturous rage; Peele, from whose hand the sweet ...
How gracefully, O man, with thy palm-bough, Upon the waning century standest thou, In proud and noble manhood's prime, With ...
And wilt thou, faithless one, then, leave me, With all thy magic phantasy,-- With all the thoughts that joy or ...
Wrapped was the world in slumber deep, By seaward valley and cedarn steep, And bright and blest were the dreams ...
The poet sang of a battle-field Where doughty deeds were done, Where stout blows rang on helm and shield And ...
From vales of dawn hath Day pursued the Night Who mocking fled, swift-sandalled, to the west, Nor ever lingered in ...
In Arthur's house whileome was I When happily the time went by In midmost glory of his days. He held ...
When for the Thorns with which I long, too long, With many a piercing wound, My Saviours head have crown'd, ...
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