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Chain'd in the market place he stood, A man of giant frame, Amid the gathering multitude, That shrunk to hear his name - All stern of look and strong of limb, His dark eye on the ground - And silently they gaz'd on him, As on a lion…

"Man giveth up the ghost, and where is he?" Job, c. 14, v. 10. And where is he? not by the side Whose every want he lov'd to tend; Not on those vallies wand'ring wide, Where, sweetly lost, he oft would wend; That form belov'd he marks no…

Unthinking, idle, wild, and young,
I laugh'd and danc'd, and talk'd and sung,
And, proud of health, of freedom vain,
Dreampt not of sorrow, care, or pain;
Concluding in those hours of glee,
That all the world was made for me.

But, when the…

All earthly good still blends itself with harm;
Roses have thorns; a storm succeeds the calm;
Joys have their sorrows, laughter has its tears,
Sweets have their bitter drops, and hopes their
fears;
Day has its night, the sun its gloomy…

In early youth I nursed a flower, Of sweet perfume and lovely hue, A favorite in my blooming bower, Warmed by the sun, refreshed by shower,Securely there it grew.If gladness filled my youthful breast, More bright its beauties shone; It seemed to…

Land of heroes and of sages,
Waking from thy sleep of ages,
Rouse thee! 'tis no hour for slumber,
Foes, as ocean's sands in number,
Gird thee. 'Tis not now the Asian
Gives thy fields to desolation;
'Tis not now the archer Mede,
Rushing as…

Methinks I fain would lie by the lone sea,
And hear the waters their music weave!
Methinks it were a pleasant thing to grieve,
So that our sorrows might companioned be
By that strange harmony
Of winds and billows, and the living sound
Sent down…

"This is a true saying, and worthy of all acceptation" This little Book I'd rather own, Than all the gold and gems That e'er in monarchs' coffee shone - Than all their diadems: Nay, were the seas one chrysolite, The earth a golden ball. And…

"Did not I weep for him that was in trouble? was not my soul grieved for the poor?" There was a day I never sigh'd; There was a time I gladly sung: Oh, how I wish that I had died, When mind was pure and form was young. If I were well, a father…

There is a freshness in the air, A brightness in the sky, As if a new-born sun was there, Just seraph-throned on high; And birds, and flowers, and mountain streams, Rejoicing in his infant beams, Are glad as if the Winter's breath Had never blown…