"There came to the beach a poor exile of Erin, The dew on his thin robe was heavy and chill; For his country he sigh'd, when at twilight repairing To wander alone by the wind-beaten hill."

"Whose lines are mottoes of the heart, Whose truths electrify the sage."

"And rustic life and poverty Grow beautiful beneath his touch."

"I saw the last of human mould, That shall Creation's death behold, As Adam saw her prime!"

"All worldly shapes shall melt in gloom, The Sun himself must die, Before this mortal shall assume Its Immortality!"

"Absence! is not the soul torn by it From more than light, or life, or breath? 'Tis Lethe's gloom, but not its quiet,— The pain without the peace of death!"

"Star that bringest home the bee, And sett'st the weary labourer free!"

"Again to the battle, Achaians! Our hearts bid the tyrants defiance! Our land, the first garden of Liberty's tree, It has been, and shall yet be, the land of the free."

"Drink ye to her that each loves best! And if you nurse a flame That's told but to her mutual breast, We will not ask her name."

"Oh, how hard it is to find The one just suited to our mind!"

"To-morrow let us do or die."

"The torrent's smoothness, ere it dash below!"

"O Love! in such a wilderness as this."

"A stoic of the woods—a man without a tear."

"The meteor flag of England Shall yet terrific burn, Till danger's troubled night depart, And the star of peace return."

"With thunders from her native oak, She quells the floods below."

"Britannia needs no bulwarks, No towers along the steep; Her march is o'er the mountain waves, Her home is on the deep."

"While the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow."

"Ye mariners of England, That guard our native seas; Whose flag has braved, a thousand years, The battle and the breeze!"

"What though my wingèd hours of bliss have been Like angels visits, few and far between."

"Cease, every joy, to glimmer on my mind, But leave, oh! leave the light of Hope behind!"

"But sad as angels for the good man's sin, Weep to record, and blush to give it in."

"O star-eyed Science! hast thou wandered there, To waft us home the message of despair?"

"Melt and dispel, ye spectre-doubts, that roll Cimmerian darkness o'er the parting soul!"

"That gems the starry girdle of the year."

"What millions died that Caesar might be great!"

"Let Winter come! let polar spirits sweep The darkening world, and tempest-troubled deep! Though boundless snows the withered heath deform, And the dim sun scarce wanders through the storm, Yet shall the smile of social love repay, With mental light, the melancholy day! And, when its short and sullen noon is o'er, The ice-chained waters slumbering on the shore, How bright the fagots in his little hall Blaze on the hearth, and warm the pictured wall!"

"And muse on Nature with a poet's eye."

"There shall he love when genial morn appears, Like pensive Beauty smiling in her tears."

"While Memory watches o'er the sad review Of joys that faded like the morning dew."

"The world was sad, the garden was a wild, And man the hermit sigh'd — till woman smiled."

"Without the smile from partial beauty won, Oh what were man? — a world without a sun."

"Who hath not owned, with rapture-smitten frame, The power of grace, the magic of a name?"

"And rival all but Shakespeare's name below."

"On Prague's proud arch the fires of ruin glow, His blood-dyed waters murmuring far below."

"On the green banks of Shannon, when Sheelah was nigh, No blithe Irish lad was so happy as I; No harp like my own could so cheerily play, And wherever I went was my poor dog Tray."

"To is to conquer our fate."

"To live in hearts we leave behind Is not to die."

"But sorrow return'd with the dawning of morn, And the voice in my dreaming ear melted away."

"In life's morning march, when my bosom was young."

"Our bugles sang truce, for the night-cloud had lower'd, And the sentinel stars set their watch in the sky; And thousands had sunk on the ground overpower'd, The weary to sleep, and the wounded to die."

"Another's sword has laid him low, Another's and another's; And every hand that dealt the blow— Ah me! it was a brother's!"

"The hunter and the deer a shade."

"Oh! once the harp of Innisfail Was strung full high to notes of gladness; But yet it often told a tale Of more prevailing sadness."

"Oh leave this barren spot to me! Spare, woodman, spare the beechen tree!"

"Let us think of them that sleep, Full many a fathom deep, By thy wild and stormy steep, Elsinore!"

"Ye are brothers! ye are men! And we conquer but to save."

"There was silence deep as death, And the boldest held his breath, For a time."

"Few, few shall part where many meet! The snow shall be their winding-sheet, And every turf beneath their feet Shall be a soldier's sepulchre."