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Thou Power! who hast ruled me through Infancy’s days,Young offspring of Fancy, ’tis time we should part;Then rise on the gale this the last of my lays,The coldest effusion which springs from my heart. This bosom, responsive to rapture no…
In one who felt as once he felt,This might, perhaps, have fann’d the flame;But now his heart no more will melt,Because that heart is not the same. As when the ebbing flames are low,The aid which once improved their light,And…
Thy verse is ‘sad’ enough, no doubt:A devilish deal more sad than witty!Why we should weep I can’t find out,Unless for thee we weep in pity. Yet there is one I pity more;And much, alas! I think he needs it;For…
Oh, say not, sweet Anne, that the Fates have decreedThe heart which adores you should wish to dissever;Such Fates were to me most unkind ones indeed,To bear me from love and from beauty for ever.Your frowns, lovely girl, are the…
1. If Fate should seal my Death to-morrow, (Though much I hope she will postpone it,)I’ve held a share of Joy and Sorrow, Enough for Ten; and here I own it. 2. I’ve lived as many other men live, And yet, I think, with more enjoyment;For could I…
Oh, Anne, your offences to me have been grievous:I thought from my wrath no atonement could save you:But woman is made to command and deceive usI look ‘d in your face, and I almost forgave you. I vow’d I could…
Ah, heedless girl! why thus disclose What ne’er was meant for other ears;Why thus destroy thine own repose, And dig the source of future tears? Oh, thou wilt weep, imprudent maid,While lurking envious foes will smile,For all the follies thou hast saidOf…
Anne’s Eye is liken’d to the Sun, From it such Beams of Beauty fall;And this can be denied by none, For like the Sun, it shines on All. Then do not admiration smother, Or say these glances don’t become her;To you,…
1. Oh! well I know your subtle Sex, Frail daughters of the wanton Eve,— While jealous pangs our Souls perplex, No passion prompts you to relieve. 2. From Love, or Pity ne’er you fall, By you, no mutual Flame is felt,…
⁓Written Under The Impression That The Author Would Soon Die⁓ Adieu, thou Hill! where early joySpread roses o’er my brow;Where Science seeks each loitering boyWith knowledge to endow.Adieu, my youthful friends or foes,Partners of former bliss or woes;No more through…