At length fair Peace, with olive… Her lawful throne, and to the sacr… Of wood or fount the frighted Mus… Happy the bard who, from his nativ… Soft musing on a summer’s eve, sur…

Optima quaeque dies miseris mortal… Prima fugit-… ~Virg. Imitation. Ah! wretched mortals we! - our bri…

Born near the scene for Kenelm’s… I take my plaintive reed, and rang… And raise my lay, and bid the rock… The savage force of empire, and of… Fast by the centre of yon various…

Through the dim veil of evening’s… Near some lone fane, or yew’s fune… What dreary forms has magic Fear… What shrouded spectres Superstiti… But you, secure, shall pour your s…

‘Sir, will you please to walk befo… ‘No, pray, Sir-you are next the d… ‘Upon mine honour, I’ll not stir.… ‘Sir, I’m at home; consider, Sir’… ‘Excuse me, Sir; I’ll not go firs…

The western sky was purpled o’er With every pleasing ray; And flocks reviving felt no more The sultry heats of day; When from an hazel’s artless bower

Ye birds! for whom I rear’d the g… With melting lay salute my love; My Daphne with your notes detain, Or I have rear’d my grove in vain… Ye flowers! before her footsteps r…

AEole! namque tibi divûm Pater a… Et mulcere dedit mentes et tollere… Imitation. O AEolus! to thee the Sire supre… Of gods and men the mighty power b…

Vide Shakspeare. Beneath a churchyard yew, Decay’d and worn with age, At dusk of eve methought I spied Poor Slender’s Ghost, that whimpe…

Ask not the cause why this rebelli… Loads with fresh curses thy detest… Ask not, thus branded in my softes… Why stands the flatter’d name, whi… ’Tis not, that in my shed I lurk…

Hail curious wights, to whom so fa… The form of mortal flies is! Who deem those grubs beyond compar… Which common sense despises. Whether o’er hill, morass or mound…

Hail curious Wights! to whom so f… The form of mortal flies is! Who deem those grubs beyond compar… Which common sense despises. Whether o’er hill, morass or mound…

Urit spes animi credula mutui.-Ho… Imitation. Fond hope of a reciprocal desire Inflames the breast. ’Twas not by beauty’s aid alone

Why will you my passion reprove? Why term it a folly to grieve? Ere I shew you the charms of my l… She is fairer than you can believe… With her mien she enamours the bra…

Whilst round in wild rotations hur… These glittering forms I view, Methinks the busy restless world Is pictured in a few. So may the busy world advance,