To J. W. On His Birth Day. A Dialogue Between Seventy Two and Twenty Seven (Hector MacNeill Poems)
M. Another year to banish gloom, And still my friend retains his bloom!-- Still laughs and jokes, and tells his tale; Eats heartily : ...
M. Another year to banish gloom, And still my friend retains his bloom!-- Still laughs and jokes, and tells his tale; Eats heartily : ...
SCENE THE LAST.ANGELS.THE spirit-region's noble limbHath 'scaled the ...
PART I.Dark, with shrouds of mist surrounded. Rise the mountains from the shore,Where the galleys of the Islesmen Stand updrawn, their voyage ...
President Lincoln, he has died,And gone to swell the upper tide;He on the earth will move on more-He's landed on ...
Friend of my dark and solitary hour,When spectres walk abroad, and ghosts have power,To thee I look to dissipate the ...
Whether my heart hath wiser grown or not,In these three years, since I to thee inscribed,Mine own betrothed, the firstlings ...
FROM the heart of Waumbek Methna, from thelake that never fails,Falls the Saco in the green lap of Conway'sintervales;There, in ...
NO more let Europe's offspring boastSuperior sense and worth;Or fancy virtue is attach'dTo any spot of earth;Nor e'er suppose that ...
Beyond the fix'd and settl'd RulesOf Vice and Virtue in the Schools,Beyond the Letter of the Law,Which keeps our Men ...
Weak-Winged is Song,Nor aims at that clear-ethered heightWhither the brave deed climbs for lightWe seem to do them wrong,Bringing our ...
THE hallowed morn faint glimmering in the East,Dawns on a slumb'ring and a ransom'd world;How dearly ransom'd! wonderful the priceBy ...
While I reclineAt ease beneathThis immemorial pine,Small sphere!(By dusky fingers brought this morning hereAnd shown with boastful smiles),I turn thy ...
Rivermouth Rocks are fair to see,By dawn or sunset shone across,When the ebb of the sea has left them free,To ...
NATHANIEL.Father! here father! I have found a horse-shoe!Faith it was just in time, for t'other nightI laid two straws across ...
A parish-priest was of the pilgrim-train;An awful, reverend, and religious man.His eyes diffused a venerable grace,And charity itself was in ...
O! Martha, Martha, cease thy plaintive moan —Take comfort — check thy over frequent sighsFor thy dear babe — whom ...
The Benedictine EchardSat by the wayside well,Where Marsberg sees the bridalOf the Sarre and the Moselle.Fair with its sloping vineyardsAnd ...
'Tis the first sanction Nature gave to man,Each other to assist in what they can;Just or unjust, this law for ...
Our sun hath gone down at the noonday, The heavens are black; And over the morning the shadows Of night-time are back. Stop the ...
The Sun o'er the waters was throwing In the freshness of morning its beams;And the breast of the ocean seemed glowing With ...
Almighty God thy heavenly aid bestow,O'er my rapt soul bid inspiration flow;Let voice seraphic, mighty Lord, be mine,Whilst I unfold ...
Hear me! ye firm and uncorrupted few,Followers of freedom! and of virtue too!Ye, who are pleading with a noble zealFor ...
The Poet's dead! - a slave to honor -He fell, by rumor slandered,Lead in his breast and thirsting for revenge,Hanging ...
In vain, dear Madam, yes in vain you strive; Alas! to make your luckless Mira thrive, For Tycho and Copernicus agree, No golden Planet bent its Rays on me. 'Tis twenty Winters, if it is no more; To speak the Truth it may be Twenty four. As many Springs their 'pointed Space have run, Since Mira's Eyes first open'd on the Sun. 'Twas when the Flocks on slabby Hillocks lie, And the cold Fishes rule the wat'ry Sky: But tho these Eyes the learned Page explore, And turn the pond'rous Volumes o'er and o'er, I find no Comfort from their Systems flow, But am dejected more as more I know. Hope shines a while, but like a Vapour flies, (The Fate of all the Curious and the Wise) For, Ah! cold Saturn triumph'd on that Day, And frowning Sol deny'd his golden Ray. You see I'm learned, and I shew't the more, That none may wonder when they find me poor. Yet Mira dreams, as slumbring Poets may, And rolls in Treasures till the breaking Day: While Books and Pictures in bright Order rise, And painted Parlours swim before her Eyes: Till the shrill Clock impertinently rings, And the soft Visions move their shining Wings: Then Mira wakes,— her Pictures are no more, And through her Fingers slides the vanish'd Ore. Convinc'd too soon, her Eye unwilling falls On the blue Curtains and the dusty Walls: She wakes, alas! to Business and to Woes, To sweep her Kitchen, and to mend her Clothes. But see pale Sickness with her languid Eyes, At whose Appearance all Delusion flies: The World recedes, its Vanities decline, Clorinda's Features seem as faint as mine! Gay Robes no more the aching Sight admires, Wit grates the Ear, and melting Music tires: Its wonted pleasures with each sense decay, Books please no more, and paintings fade away, The sliding Joys in misy Vapours end: Yet let me still, Ah! let me grasp a Friend: And when each Joy, when each lov'd Object flies, Be you the last that leaves my closing Eyes. But how will this dismantl'd Soul appear, When stripp'd of all it lately held so dear, Forc'd from its Prison of expiring Clay, Afraid and shiv'ring at the doubtful Way. Yet did these Eyes a dying Parent see, Loos'd from all Cares except a Thought for me, Without a Tear resign her short'ning Breath, And dauntless meet the ling'ring Stroke of Death. Then at th' Almighty's Sentence shall I mourn: "Of Dust thou art, to Dust shalt thou return." Or shall I wish to stretch the Line of Fate, That the dull Years may bear a longer Date, To share the Follies of succeeding Times With more Vexations and with deeper Crimes: Ah no — tho' Heav'n brings near the final Day, For such a Life I will not, dare not pray; But let the Tear for future Mercy flow, And fall resign'd beneath the mighty Blow. Nor I alone — for through the spacious Ball, With me will Numbers of all Ages fall: And the same Day that Mira yields her Breath, Thousands may enter through the Gates of Death. (Mary Leapor)
Sure never did man seeA wretch like poor Nancy,So teazed day and nightBy a Dean and a Knight.To punish my ...
Prayer and the Plague are two most pow'rful things,Being both derived from the King of Kings;The Plague is sent to ...
O Lord, my God! who formedst me of nought!My Saviour, who from death his servant bought!O Holy Ghost! O Trinity ...
I stood at eve, as the sun went down, by a grave where a woman lies,Who lured men's souls to ...
The burghers six of Calais,True were they and brave;To save their fellow-townsmenTheir lives they freely gave.Will ye hear their story?Come ...
WE are two travellers, Roger and I. Roger 's my dog.-Come here, you scamp!Jump for the gentlemen,-mind your eye! Over the table,-look ...
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