Browse Items (174 total)

Oh! how charming the scenes appear! When nature is blooming and gay, And the golden harvest is near, And the lawns in flow'ry array. How beauteous, the sloping green hills, And groves fann'd zephyr's mild breath; The silvery murmuring rills; And the…

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…

Serena, dead? oh no, she sleeps Beneath the massy ground; While the tender mother weeps, And sisters moan around. Serena sleeps in silent rest, Nipp'd with the budding rose; But. oh, she is supremely blest, In sweet and calm repose. Serena sleeps,…

Wake, lady, wake, - the midnight moon Sails through the cloudless skies of June; The Stars gaze sweetly on the stream, Which in the brightness of their beam, One sheet of glory lies. The glowworm lends its little light, And all that's beautiful and…

THERE is a sigh - that, half supprest, Seems scarce to heave the bosom fair; It rises from the spotless breast, The first faint dawn of tender care. There is a sigh - so soft, so sweet, It breathes not from the lip of woe; 'Tis heard where…

When first my bosom glowed with hope, I gaz'd as from a mountain top On some delightful plain; But oh! how transient was the scene --- It fled as though it had not been, And all my hopes were vain. How oft this tantalizing blaze Has led me through…

Banish grief for hope presages,Happier scenes in life ahead:Bear up still, and pain that rages,Soon will cease, its power be fled.Why should we let drooping sorrowForce the intrusive tear to view;Is there a balm which we can borrow,By opening healing…

THE tears I shed must fall, I mourn not for an absent Swain, For thought may past delights recall, And parted lovers meet again. I weep not for the silent dead. Their toils are past, their sorrows o'er, And those they lov'd their steps shall…

Oh ¡ no we never mention her! her name is never heard;My lips are now forbid to speak, that oncefamiliar word;From sport to sport they hurry me, to banish my regret;And when they win a smile from me, they think that I forget. II. They bid me seek in…

How sweetly sinks the setting sunO'er yon blue mountain in the west,And man his daily labour done,Betakes him to his home and rest.Behold the scene! how soft and fair;Not yet hath twilight wheel'd her car,But o'er the valley, through the air,The…